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October 16, 2006

Let the Whining Commence ... or Bring it to an End

You know what can fix a crappy-ass, cold, rainy day? Several things:

  • A child who not only naps, but a child who announces, "I'm ready to get in my little bed," takes herself to her room, and sleeps like the comatose.
  • A couch and a quilt, with a dog who's too damn stupid to find her way out from under a quilt, which works in my favor because, while Murphy's no scholar, she certainly makes a good, environmentally-friendly heat source.
  • A little pot of pomegranate white tea.
  • "Laverne & Shirley" reruns, although it would have been better if one of them wasn't the episode where Ted Danson plays Laverne's near-fiance' firefighter who dies. I hate that episode as much now, if not more, than I did when I was eight.
  • But the airing of the wretched episode gave me an excuse to turn on some music and park my nose in this delious bit of dual-authored literariness.

    I think it was no coincidence that, when I plopped my whiny ass onto the couch, remote in hand, looking to escape yet another in a long line of recent cruddy days, I channel-surfed to a documentary on one of the umpteen varieties of The Discovery Channel on how the loss of Western interest worsened the famine in Ethiopia. The universe has delightful ways to snap me out of my whining and refresh my memory that I don't have it bad. At all. Not even remotely bad. I have a dog-warmed couch, quilts, tea, books, quiet, and "Laverne & Shirley" reruns, which, even when it's the only sad episode or one of those ridiculous California episodes, sure are blessings.

    I started writing this hours ago, before the couch-sitting, "Laverne & Shirley"-watching, tea-drinking, book-reading, dog-heating event. I started out listing all my whines of the day: being out in the rain with Clara Jane, the rain boot that fell off her foot while I had my arms loaded with stuff (although a very nice lady stopped to fetch the boot for me), exhausted from two nights of insomnia, both which ended with me sleeping on the couch, and a fierce earache just in time for my flight to Cleveland on Thursday. My impending birthday - I hate my birthday, as you know if you've been reading for any amount of time. The upcoming 15th anniversary of my grandma's death. Recent spousal tensions. Fruit flies. My lovely vintage pinkish-orange Pyrex pie plate, shattered on the kitchen floor.

    I almost rear-ended a cop car in the Starbucks drive-thru this afternoon. Wrap your head around how many things are weird about that sentence. I acutally thought this thought: "I wonder if he'll let me take my latte to jail."

    After our crazy trip to the grocery store, which thank God has a UPS store on its premise and saved me a trip, I did something I rarely do with Clara Jane: we had a crappy, greasy, unhealthy fast food lunch in the truck. On the rare occasions that she gets fast food, she gets the healthier versions. But today the only thing even remotely convenient was Sonic. So my kid ate tots and a corn dog for lunch. At least she had apple juice, as I refuse to budge on my no soda stance. Some days, our mental health takes precidence over our physical health and I'm pretty sure hauling around in the rain for healthy food would have shoved me over the edge today. Clara Jane and I had an emotionally volatile weekend and were building up to an emotionally volatile day. Sometimes, you just need a damn corn dog to diffuse the bomb.

    She's napped for nearly three hours. I've drank a pot of tea, read a chapter, massaged my weary brain with my favorite show from my childhood, snuggled with dog who's as warm as she is stupid. We're dry, even though the rain persists. My ear hurts a little less, probably because I've relaxed my neck for the first time in days. I've got a great trip lurking on my calendar.

    A week from now, I'll be 34 and a day.

    It's 4:46, and I still don't know what I'm going to fix for dinner.

    Somehow, I think it might all work out.

    Posted by Robin at October 16, 2006 02:34 PM

    Comments

    Ok ... unrelated to your post, but I have to share. Now, I hate dream stories as much as the next guy, but here goes. Last night before bed, I told my husband I was going to will myself to dream the sex of our fetus. This morning, when I woke up, I realized I dreamt that Clara Jane and I were on an airplane driving down the road. WTF. Does that mean I'm going to have a girl or that I spend entirely too much time reading your blog? Hmmm.

    Posted by: Lori at October 16, 2006 06:09 PM

    I wish I had been under a quilt with Maggie. I had 7 hours of Professional Development today. The only thing that developed was my "Things I Hate About Professional Development Days" list.

    Posted by: allison at October 16, 2006 07:36 PM

    I loved Laverne and Shirley when I was little, and watched a mini-marathon of it last weekend, when I was elevating and icing my ankle all last Sunday.

    Rest up, because Friday is going to be a long day. Well, you can zonk out in the car after the show :)
    I can't wait to take you to get a Handel's fix!

    Posted by: Blossom's Dad's Ho at October 16, 2006 09:11 PM