Well, shit. Here it is Tuesday already. And I thought time wouldn't fly by while we wait for Mr. Snob's surgery on Thursday. Funny how it's the stupid crap that is making me nuts. Like today, had to get a pedicure. HAD. TO. I have no idea why. I mean, sure I like to have my toes pained (today: OPI-Romeo and Joliet - not Juliet, Joliet - I don't know why, either; it's an OPI thing) but I'm pretty sure while we're at the hospital no one is going to notice my feet. What with the whole open heart surgery for Mr. Snob and all. But for the last 2 days it's been consuming my thoughts....have to get pedicure. Now. Can not wait. Now. But maybe the surgeon's a foot fetish guy and would have completely botched everything if my toes weren't freshly painted and exfoliated? Just can't risk it.
Saturday, some friends of my Mother-in-Law held a prayer thingie for Mr. Snob and some other friends who are ill or recovering. I did not do well during this little shin-dig and pretty much cried the whole time. I make jokes, it's what I do. It's my first and most-trusted form of defense. During a prayer thing, with the old ladies praying and all of us reciting the rosary, and a special read-aloud section for the sick people...well, it was just all too much. Hard to make jokes that they wouldn't see as entirely inappropriate. Which, we can all agree, they are, but still. They need to be said. A few of my friends were there, thankfully, and let me mumble my jokes about pork rinds, and smelling like bacon and what if a famine strikes, can we slice off a little bit of Mr. Snob's thigh and fry it up? (Didn't I tell you? His replacement valve is from a pig)
My stomach is in knots and I am worrying about seventeen kinds of shit that doesn't matter. Things like this:
1. Shredding old mail.
2. Is now a good time to switch moisturizer? What if I'm allergic and have to see everyone with a rash on my face?? Good Gawd.
3. Who's going to let the wonder dog out?
4. I should have rearranged the furniture.
5. 2 Sweet Sixteen birthdays to celebrate this week and I can't think hard enough to buy gifts. I always buy gifts, never ever ever give cash or gift cards. Giving cash or gift cards means I am a failure. I am giving cash, fuck it. They'll understand.
6. I need to clean out the refrigerator.
7. I need a new small-ish, multi-pocketed duffel to have at the hospital. Something to hold all my stuff that I'll be carrying, especially the day of the surgery (likely to be an 18 hour extravaganza of fun and frivolity if you count the getting there early, then the surgery, the time in recovery, the waiting and then the transferring to ICU. And the waiting, oh the waiting). I'll have my i-pod, the PSP, a book (thinking I'll re-read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince), a toothbrush, etc etc dear god I should have bought a bigger bag.
8. I still want to paint the kitchen orange - maybe just one wall.
9. Laundry, laundry, laundry.
10. I should have started cleaning sooner.
Thursday will be here very soon. I'm nervous, I'm scared, I'm so many things....but I am also so grateful to you. Thank you for letting me vent. I promise to keep you posted. You are all go great to offer help and I just might be taking you up on it.
To my special dear internet goddess friend, O'Mama....thank you for the chocolate, the teddy bear for Booger and the little tiny pin that is so full of good energy it damn near lights up my house. There are no words, my friend.
Saturday, some friends of my Mother-in-Law held a prayer thingie for Mr. Snob and some other friends who are ill or recovering. I did not do well during this little shin-dig and pretty much cried the whole time. I make jokes, it's what I do. It's my first and most-trusted form of defense. During a prayer thing, with the old ladies praying and all of us reciting the rosary, and a special read-aloud section for the sick people...well, it was just all too much. Hard to make jokes that they wouldn't see as entirely inappropriate. Which, we can all agree, they are, but still. They need to be said. A few of my friends were there, thankfully, and let me mumble my jokes about pork rinds, and smelling like bacon and what if a famine strikes, can we slice off a little bit of Mr. Snob's thigh and fry it up? (Didn't I tell you? His replacement valve is from a pig)
My stomach is in knots and I am worrying about seventeen kinds of shit that doesn't matter. Things like this:
1. Shredding old mail.
2. Is now a good time to switch moisturizer? What if I'm allergic and have to see everyone with a rash on my face?? Good Gawd.
3. Who's going to let the wonder dog out?
4. I should have rearranged the furniture.
5. 2 Sweet Sixteen birthdays to celebrate this week and I can't think hard enough to buy gifts. I always buy gifts, never ever ever give cash or gift cards. Giving cash or gift cards means I am a failure. I am giving cash, fuck it. They'll understand.
6. I need to clean out the refrigerator.
7. I need a new small-ish, multi-pocketed duffel to have at the hospital. Something to hold all my stuff that I'll be carrying, especially the day of the surgery (likely to be an 18 hour extravaganza of fun and frivolity if you count the getting there early, then the surgery, the time in recovery, the waiting and then the transferring to ICU. And the waiting, oh the waiting). I'll have my i-pod, the PSP, a book (thinking I'll re-read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince), a toothbrush, etc etc dear god I should have bought a bigger bag.
8. I still want to paint the kitchen orange - maybe just one wall.
9. Laundry, laundry, laundry.
10. I should have started cleaning sooner.
Thursday will be here very soon. I'm nervous, I'm scared, I'm so many things....but I am also so grateful to you. Thank you for letting me vent. I promise to keep you posted. You are all go great to offer help and I just might be taking you up on it.
To my special dear internet goddess friend, O'Mama....thank you for the chocolate, the teddy bear for Booger and the little tiny pin that is so full of good energy it damn near lights up my house. There are no words, my friend.
Labels: Ten Things
3 Comments:
I am the queen of the humor defense mechanism. I thought you were going to do a 10 Things of inappropriate jokes you haven't been allowed to make lately. I'd love to hear 'em!
Good thoughts coming your way. Some people carry a rabbit's foot, you have a pedicure, it's way more practical, I say good choice!
Feet are powerful, my friend, and if yours are decked out just the way you need them, you're gold.
I'm with Kizz - what kind of pig jokes did you crack? I do the same damn thing - at the dentist, heavy somber moments - can't stand it.
Hugs and Love, Snob. My thoughts are with you all the damn time.
norgizbd is the verification word - doesn't it sound like a Russian obscenity?
I'm with Kizz - I thought the ten things would be the inappropriate jokes. You KNOW we'd think they were funny.
Here's something my god told me after a yoga class: you can't take proper care of ANYONE until you learn how to take proper care of yourself. There's a REASON they tell you, in the unlikely event of the loss of cabin pressure, to put your own oxygen mask on first and THEN help your child and/or seat mate. Getting a pedicure is a great way to take care of yourself, and you must stop, RIGHT NOW, stressing about it.
I'm here, at the ready. Tell me what you need and it's yours.
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