spunk and asphyxiation
2005-08-12 - 9:32 a.m.
Oh the joys of chronic shit! I speak, of course, not of marijuana (that wicked weed), but rather chronic illness, such as, oh, I don't know, say ASTHMA! Yesterday I was horking up a lung after lunch, so I dutifully took my albuterol before heading into a meeting. But my lungs, they are bored of the albuterol. Fuck albuterol and fuck the man, they cry! So there I am sitting in my meeting, hacking away, occasionally looking tres distressed as a wave of hideous vertigo sweeps over me, waiting to give my update. I was trying to gague how much longer my boss was going to go on with his updates, and trying to figure out what's less disruptive, hacking away and looking like I will shortly need the fainting couch and the smelling salts, or getting up and running for my albuterol. Like the small mouse I am, I decide to just tough it out, as people around the table start shooting me looks like "Are you going to die right here, and will we need to call a coroner?" Looking back on it, duh! I should have absolutely excused myself and taken more albuterol. Almost everyone in that room knew about my major problems with bronchitis last winter, and no one would have had a problem with me going out for 5 minutes. But instead, I fell into the trap of being the "good girl" and waiting. As I believe Garbage once sang, "stupid girl!" Good girls take care of their freaking bodies.
This morning, after my short walk from the metro to my desk, I collapsed into my chair, doing my best imitation of a fish out of water. Fortunately, I wasn't doing the coughing thing (my throat is so raw!) but rather the brand-new variation, the gasping for breath/hyperventilating thing. SO MUCH FUN! I'm heading off to the doctor today, hopefully to receive another Darth Vader treatment. One of my glorious co-workers is sweetly dropping me off. It's so nice to work in a place where people will do that for you.
So in effect, this weekend shall NOT see the Painting of the Crown Moulding, nor shall it see the Painting of the Baseboards, nor shall it yet see the Touching Up Paint of the Bathroom. However, I fondly believe this week shall see the Installation of New Blinds--it will most definitely see the Laundering of Fresh Towels and Sheets, the Organizing of the Kitchen Bookshelf and the Fancy Entry Bookshelf and the weekly Stocking of the Fridge and Pantry. I know on Prince R's platter is the Daily Obsessing Over the Lawn. If you've ever seen King of the Hill, my husband's goal is to be Hank Hill. He stares at our lawn every day, muttering to himself about weeds and seeds and is it starting to sprout and dry patches. He yells at me when I walk across the back to check my vegetables or petunias. Last weekend we ripped out the crabgrass on the front lawn with our (bleeding) hands (and this wicked awesome knife.) He is stepping into suburban life in all its glory, folks. He is a suburban warrior! Meanwhile, the cat is taking up arms yet again against hairballs, and vanquished one last weekend on my grandmother's rug. Thanks kitty! You're the bestest! Linoleum is for pussies, right? Forunately, braided wool rugs are known for their durability and it cleaned right up.
Okay, tired now. Off to grab some caffeinated tea of PURE LOVE baby!!
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