Lucky to Be Alive: Dad's Accident (Part 1)

There's really no nice way to transition into this, so let's just get down to it.

On October 18th I got a phone call from my mom. This in itself is a bit of a rarity, and I have frequently told her she needs to call more often, because she seems to only call with bad news. I need to be reconditioned not to expect negative things when she calls. (You know, like how you take your dog for car rides so he doesn't automatically assume car = vet.) But I got blindsided on this one. First, she called from my dad's phone, and my dad is a billion times more likely to call me for something random (like to tell me he's 20 minutes from my house, and would I mind if he stopped by). Second, she started the conversation so normally that I suspected nothing. (Sneaky woman, she is...)

And then she hit me with it.

My dad was in a motorcycle accident on the night of October 17th. He was on his way home from a softball game (he plays in a Fall Ball league when he's able) and was worried about hitting wet leaves on the street he normally uses to get home. Instead, he went one street down, nicked the median (we think), and went down. 

The table was still set for Monday's
dinner when I arrived on Wednesday night.

My mom had been waiting at home for him. Over an hour after he should have been home for dinner, the hospital called my mom to let her know Dad was there. After explaining that his injuries were serious, but non-life-threatening, she got off the phone and headed straight to the hospital.

It wasn't until late Tuesday morning that my mom called to tell me. I immediately requested the next two days off from work, planning to go to Madison as soon as possible. I ended up spending Wednesday doing chores to get caught up at my house and then headed to Madison that night so I could spend Thursday at the hospital with my parents.

Wednesday night, Mom filled me in on the details of his accident, including the laundry list of injuries he sustained. Both bones in his left leg were broken, which included a compound fracture (bone came through the skin). His left thumb was partially dislocated (subluxation) and two of his fingers were broken. He broke his sternum and 20 ribs (he likes to boast that he was going for the record). The bridge of his nose was broken, leading to some nice bruising that made it look like he was rocking purple eyeliner. He had some relatively minor road rash, as well as some other bumps and bruises. And he hit his forehead enough to need some stitches and have a mild concussion. Seeing as he wasn't wearing a helmet, he is insanely lucky that was the extent of the damage to his head (and that he's here to tell the tale). 

As for the accident itself, the details were - and still are - pretty sketchy. We know he was making a left turn when he went down, and was less than two miles from home when it happened. Other than that... We're just not sure. There were a few witnesses who gave statements (one said she saw a car run him over, but the others didn't mention anything about that), and Dad has some flashes of memory from the accident (he thinks he remembers seeing the bike sliding away from him). Mostly he remembers a woman who sat with him while they waited for the ambulance. He says she was wonderful. She made sure someone called 911 and she stayed calm through the whole ordeal. He has no idea who she was (he couldn't really turn his head or body to look at her as she sat with him), but he'd love to thank her. So would I. 

There's a LONG road to recovery ahead of us. I'll share some details of that journey later. For now, just know that he's going to be OK. That's the only part that matters.

The Pepper Predicament - Part 1: Pepper, Destroyer of Kitchens

So to help you go through this the same way we did, I have to start with the Wednesday before everything went down.

Hubby and I went to the zoo for Sunset Zoofari (something our zoo does in the summer where the zoo closes like normal at 5 but reopens from 6-9). When we go places, we tend to leave Maxine in the living room and Pepper in the kitchen. See, Pepper is an old man and has some separation anxiety. Put those together and you tend to come home to a lot of piss and shit. Literally. So while Maxine is free to roam the (carpeted) living room, Pepper is confined to the (linoleum) kitchen. We close the bedroom and bathroom doors, leave out a few pee pads, give him toys and treats to curb some of his chewing, and we have a nice bed in there for him to rest on. 

So on this particular Wednesday, to help Pepper's separation anxiety (and partly due to laziness), we kept BOTH the pups in the kitchen. We thought Pepper might feel better if Maxine was there to hang out with. Well, that and they hadn't finished eating yet, so rather than waiting or forcing Maxine to go without the rest of her dinner, we just put the baby gate up and left. When we got home, we realized this may have been a mistake:

You know you love the '70s floor.

Yes, we came home to a disaster zone. The garbage and recycling were both tipped over (a first in the almost 6 months we've had Pepper). The floor was littered with boxes, paper, coffee grounds, food containers, you name it. An old shoe was used as a chew toy (not a huge deal, but still). Pepper (and possibly Maxine, who knows?) had peed everywhere (both on and off the pads) and took what I call a walking dump (where he takes a shit but can't squeeze everything out in one go, so he keeps trying and in the process ends up wandering a bit, leaving little dollops of crap all over the place). Since Pepper is a tiny little thing (17 pounds) and not always the most active dog in the world, we figured this was a collaboration of sorts. There was, after all, a motivational component to this: a bone from the pork Hubby had made the weekend before was in the trash, along with remnants of aluminum foil that no doubt smelled (and probably tasted) like tasty, forbidden meat. Oi.

The following Monday we went to dinner with a friend. This time we returned to our normally scheduled programming and left Pepper in the kitchen and Maxine in the living room. When we got home, we expected to clean up the standard P&S package that Pepper so thoughtfully leaves for us on a regular basis. Instead, we came home to an almost identical scene. This time the recycling bin stayed upright, but the garbage was down, there was P&S everywhere (including the bed, which we have now just thrown away), it was gross. It took awhile to come to terms with the fact that this little dog (who even on his hind lefts isn't as tall as the bin) had created such chaos. Then we realized there had been beef trimmings in the trash. If there is one thing in this world that motivates Pepper, it's food. And apparently he simply could not resist the temptation any longer. We gave him the opportunity, and he ran with it. Totally our bad.

Going forward, we decided to put the trash can in the bathroom (with the door closed, of course). That decision was not a hard one to make (although I'm still pulling for just getting a bigger, heavier trash can, because one of these times we WILL forget to move it, I just know it), and it has been working pretty well for us. Problem solved, right?

Come on, you know better than that.

To be continued...

Christmas 2012: We Survived (Part 2)

After opening presents, we finally headed upstairs for dinner (probably around 8:30 or so). I look forward to this dinner all year. Why? Because my mom makes some killer prime rib. Sides come and go, but the prime rib is always the star of the show. We had a minor issue during the cooking process this year that led to opening some windows to dissipate some smoke, but all's well that ends well, right?

We sat down to a fabulous dinner of prime rib, Yorkshire pudding, Brussels sprouts, baby red potatoes and a tomato dish with fresh mozzarella. A few minutes into the meal, I had a plate full of amazing food and was about to dig in when my mom reached for something and knocked over her glass. Her champagne drink landed all over the right side of my lap. Mom started apologizing and Dad started working on clean up. In the meantime, I was told not to move, so I sat there, a little cold and wet, and waited. Meanwhile, Hubby and Mam-maw were trying to situate the rest of the food on the table when my rum & coke got bumped and promptly spilled all over the left side of my lap. What did I do? The only thing I could. I laughed. I laughed hysterically. Dad told me to go change, so I put on pajama pants and a dirty shirt (just in case) and headed back up to dinner. The rest of the meal was largely uneventful, but it was tasty and wonderful and I was happy (and dry).

After we cleaned up a bit, we headed downstairs to finish off the evening. When everyone else had headed to bed, Hubby and I grabbed the puppers and headed over to pick up K  to go through the local light display. Finally, a tradition that we could uphold! We went through twice, just because, and though it was short, it was nice to spend some more time with K. I slept a little better that night (probably because I started on the couch, instead of the floor), but morning still came too early for my liking.

Per our family tradition, Christmas morning is for Santa presents, so I handed out stockings and gifts for everyone (except the pooch; she'd already gotten all of her gifts). I got some fun socks and more puzzles (yay!!), and Hubby seemed happy with his new wallet and the sweet mouse shaped like a race car. There was little time to relax, though, as Mom's family was due over around two. After a quick shower and some setting up, we had a few minutes to breathe before the madness.

I should explain that I love my family to pieces. I don't mean to say that the madness was a bad thing. I'm just an introvert, and a group that big (all 14 or so of us) in one house (or sometimes in one room - eep!) can be a bit much for me. I tried to help Mom as much as I could (and as much as she'd let me), but there's only so much I could do in the kitchen with her. Around 2:30 or so we opened presents, and though the adults don't get much, I really liked what I did get. The ornaments that my cousin's kids helped make were adorable, and the hand warmers that my aunt made are perfect for shaking off a chill while I'm working. And, of course, the money from my Grampa is always appreciated. This year, we're using most of our Christmas money to go on a mini vacation up in Door County, just Hubby, the puppers and me. No work, no school, just us and a little cabin and whatever we want to do. :)

Even though she had cleaned the oven to prevent it, Mom had another cooking incident that led to windows and doors getting opened. This one was even smokier than Christmas Eve, and when Dad opened the garage door to get some air moving through, we definitely felt it downstairs. Even so, dinner was fantastic. Mom made a HUGE turkey (24 pounds!), lots of stuffing, potatoes, etc. We had left over salad and cheese from the funeral, one of my aunts brought rolls, my cousin brought green bean casserole, and with the massive amounts of cookies in the house, I strongly doubt anyone left hungry. 

After dinner, my cousin's kids wanted to play a game, so we played Words With Friends. Yep. They have a board game edition now. Picture Scrabble with a slightly smaller board, some differences in point assignments by letter, and change where the extra score points are. There you have it. We played with partners, for the most part. Me not so much, since Hubby sat on the couch and my aunt decided we were too mean to play with. We didn't keep score, but we still had fun.

By around 7 o'clock, it was back to the 5 of us (plus Maxi). We spent a little time chatting and unwinding from the day, but Hubby and I still had to drive back to Milwaukee, so we couldn't stay too long. The drive home wasn't too bad (at least I assume; I was sleeping for most of it). We got the car unpacked, but not much more. I was pretty tired, so I lounged a bit before heading to bed. Then it was lights out for Miss Riki.

Working the day after Christmas is always a bum deal, but at least it was mostly quiet. I still have some wrapping to do, since my Hubby's family Christmas is tomorrow, but at least I'm not helping to host anything else. As wonderful of a holiday as it was, I need a break from all that. In fact, tonight I plan to be my introverted self and enjoy some me time while Hubby goes to the cigar bar to use one of his gifts. :)

Hope you all had a great holiday, and that 2013 begins a new year with lots of love, health and happiness. <3

Christmas 2012: We Survived (Part 1)

Not the Mayan apocalypse; I already planned on surviving that. But the rest of the holiday, I just wasn't sure.

Let's go back to last Wednesday, the 19th. Things were going fine until I got a call from my mom. She had three things to tell me, and none of them were terribly positive. 

The first was that because of the snow Madison was about to get on Thursday, no one was going to be able to pick my Grampa up from the airport here in Milwaukee. OK, no big deal, we can handle that. Mom booked him a hotel room (we don't have a proper guest room, and I doubt Grampa wanted to sleep on our sleeper sofa or the futon) and all we had to do was pick him up when his flight landed on Thursday around 3:50. Sweet. Sad that Grampa would have to spend the night in a hotel in MKE, but at least we could help.

The second was that Mam-maw (my dad's mom) - who is staying with my parents right now - had gotten in on the 15th, but had already been in the hospital. Ugh. She was dehydrated and sick, but fortunately my dad was able to go pick her up that afternoon and take her back to their house. Again, not good that she was sick, but good that she was being released.

The third had no up-side. My aunt's husband (my uncle through marriage) had been in a car accident and had died. That one made my heart ache. My aunt is one of the nicest, sweetest people you could know (a lot like Mom) and to know something so terrible had happened made the world seem wrong. Even worse was when I found articles online about the accident; it wasn't really a car wreck, it was a "freak accident" that killed him. There are so many questions that might never get answered, and I'm afraid the hurt will stick around for a long, long time.

On Thursday, the snow storm hit Madison, but we only got rain here for most of the day. Regardless, Grampa's flight ended up getting canceled, and Mom had to make arrangements for him to stay at the airport in Orlando and to get another flight booked (which meant Mom was on hold for almost an hour and a half). After my lunch break, Hubby asked me to check our basement for flooding, since  a coworker of his was having some issues. I ran downstairs to check, didn't find any water, and came back to work, only to find that my internet was out. Poor Hubby spent about 2 hours trying to help me troubleshoot (via text and phone call), but to no avail. He called our provider, but they couldn't get out to the house until 2 PM on Friday. Great. There goes the rest of my work week.

Even better was when the guy came and figure out what had happened. Our internet amplifier is in the basement and, for whatever reason, is hooked up to a light switch in the back room. (See where this is going?) When I had gone down to check on the flooding situation, I had flipped the switch, but when nothing happened, I assumed the bulb was out and I just moved on. Instead, I had essentially turned off our connection. (Insert facepalm here.) Thankfully, it turned out that had been only part of the problem; we also had a cable that had gone bad, and had he not figured that out, I might've gone insane trying to make our internet work on my desktop. Aye yi yi.

On the plus side, I got to spend Friday wrapping presents and finishing up crafts. I watched a couple of movies on demand (Mr. Poppers Penguins was pretty sweet) and cleaned some things up a bit. That cleared up some time on Saturday, which means I had time to make all 3 kinds of cookies I'd set out to bake. I made Oreo truffles, peppermint pinwheels, and meringue cookies with mini M&Ms (they were out of the dark chocolate and mint pieces by the time we went shopping). Unlike last year's meringue cookies, these didn't turn out to be globs of gooey messiness, so that was nice. And the Oreo truffles are kind of like crack (my dad told my family that the first one's free, but the rest are $20 each). And Mom really liked the pinwheels, which made me happy. Saturday evening, K got into town, and that night, she and S came by and we went out for dinner. I love having time with my sisters, and dinner was just what I needed.

Sunday we drove into Madison. Our original plan was to have our traditional dinner and gift exchange with K that night, but instead we went to my uncle's visitation and funeral. It was actually nice to spend some time with my family and it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as I'd imagined (except for the chairs, which were terribly uncomfortable; Hubby's leg even went numb at one point). We also got to have some awesome Italian food after the service (thank you, Biaggi's!), some of which we got to take home as leftovers. That night, we had a fire in the family room and sat around to enjoy it, just Mom, Dad, Hubby, Mam-maw and I. 

Christmas Eve Day meant more cookies! My mom made the traditional sugar cookie dough, and I rolled it out, used the cookie cutters and baked them up. While we let them sit, Hubby and I headed to grab some lunch (more Italian food; I'm not Italian, but I think my taste buds are) and then to the grocery store where K and S were ringing bells for the Salvation Army. Mom gave me $5 to donate (I give my money elsewhere) and we picked up some raisin bread for Mam-maw. When we got home, I made frosting and Hubby and I decorated the sugar cookies. We got to relax for a bit after that, and then eventually we opened presents (before dinner this year; another tradition broken). Hubby got me season 1 of Sherlock on DVD, Dumbo on blu-ray, and a couple other fun things. I also got a puzzle, a beautiful scarf, and we got a ginormous generator. Dad told us the idea was originally for camping, but that the unit he got was a bit bulkier than he anticipated, so we were given the option of keeping it or returning it to Gander Mountain and using the money for other camping stuff. (We're not 100% decided yet, but I think we're leaning toward returning it and getting a new tent and some other things.) Everyone seemed to be happy with their presents, and that's all I could really hope for.

More to come.

Rant: Bitches Be Crazy

I just got back from a quick trip to Las Vegas to spend time with my sisters. I had a lot of fun and got to take a nice break from school AND work at the same time (a rare thing these days). There were awesome people, awesome meals, and awesome sites, but one thing that sucked was the flight home.

K and S dropped me off near security and I headed on in. Thankfully, I didn't have to do the full body scanner, just a good old metal detector.  Phew! I grabbed some snackage and a Coke and found a nice spot to chill for awhile.

I had paid an extra $10 to board early (instead of being in Zone 5 or whatever, I got to board with Zones 1 and 2, even though I was in 24F). I met a nice guy who saw I was reading A Game Of Thrones and suggested some other books for me, and then I settled into my nice window seat. 

The couple who sat next to me were among the last to get on the plane. The gentleman (24D) on the aisle was (by my estimates) probably around 50 years old. He looked and sounded smart and polite, and seemed pretty laid back. The woman in the middle seat (24E) looked younger (maybe mid-thirties?), but she pretty much fell asleep (cuddling with the man; I assume they're married or at least dating) as soon as we took off, so I didn't think anything of her. I just kept reading.

I got a Coke on the first round of drinks, but 24E missed it because she had been sleeping. She got something on the second round, and while trying to set it down, sloshed some liquid and ice on to the tray. She almost dropped it completely, but 24D was able to help her out a bit. Some liquid hit me, and the most I heard was a mumbled half-apology that I think was aimed at the attendant (who was trying to help clean it up) but I decided that hey, shit happens. I let it go.

When the flight attendants came back through for garbage, 24E asked if she could get another drink because she had missed the first round. She ordered a vodka and tonic, and the attendant told her to hit the call button if she forgot to bring it.  About 5 minutes passed, and 24E hit the call button. Along came the vodka and tonic. Another 5 minutes or so and the drink was gone. 

At some point here, she went looking for a pen in her purse and couldn't find one. She turned and asked me if I had a pen in my purse, to which I replied, "I don't, I'm sorry." (It wasn't even for her; her friend across the aisle wanted to do a crossword puzzle.) Shortly after, she hit her call button again. Since nothing happened (she gave it probably a whole 3 minutes or so), she hit the button again to turn it off, and AGAIN to turn it back on. What did she need so badly? Another vodka and tonic. ("Not that I need one!" she told told the attendant, as she sloshed some more liquid onto her tray.)

Quick break to let you know that during the flight, I had a headache. I alternated between reading and laying back with my eyes closed to fight off the pain, and I kept my window shade down so I didn't have sun in my eyes. OK. Back to the story.

We had about an hour left in our 3 hour flight, and 24E sloshed her drink again. This time, a decent amount hit me right on the leg and it was icy cold. Still no apology, so at this point, I'm a bit annoyed, but whatever. Back to my book.

And that's when it all went downhill.

24E turned to 24D and said (loudly), "Next time, I want a window seat. Whenever we fly, one of us should have the window seat!" I hear that. That's why I request a window seat; I like to be on the inside so I can lean on the plane and control the window shade. Understood.

For the last 45 minutes or so of the flight, that's all she talked about. Loudly. She complained to 24D (who told her, "it's not that simple" to which she replied, "oh yes it is!") several times. She shifted around to look out the window of 25F behind me, stating that she couldn't see out her window. She kept asking the row behind us about how close we were to the ground, and asking what they could see, since she couldn't see anything. It was pretty damn obvious that she wanted me to open my shade, but she never actually addressed me (aside from the pen inquiry).

I was about ready to just open the damn thing so I didn't have to hear her complain anymore until this happened.

24E: "Next time I want a window seat! One of us has to have the window seat. I can't see anything!"

24D: "OK, but I can't do anything about it. Stop yelling at me."

24E (twisting around to try to look out 25F's window again): "I know, I'm not yelling at you. I'm indirectly yelling at someone else!"

So, in case you haven't realized, I'm the someone else she was indirectly yelling at. Once again, she never addressed me directly. She never once said, "Excuse me, I'd really like to see out the window. Could you open your shade?" or "Can I check the view?" or even "Hey! Open the shade!" It was all a bunch of passive-aggressive statements said to others around me. That's when I decided there was no way I was opening that shade.

I read until we landed. While we were waiting to get off the plane, 24E started getting all sorts of belligerent. "Oh my God! The people up front had like twenty fucking minutes to get their shit out from overhead! Come on! We're from Wisconsin, we're not that stupid!" Um, really? Because as best I could tell, people got up to grab their stuff as soon as the seat belt sign went off, which is the earliest you're really allowed to do so. Twenty minutes? Not so much. She kept yelling things like that. Even on the way out of the plane. ("We're back in Wisconsin! Fuck you, Las Vegas!")

I was proud of myself for being the bigger person and not saying anything on the plane. I also felt like I had done the right thing by not opening my shade. I had selected the window seat on purpose and no one ever asked me to open it. What's done was done.

Until I was walking through the terminal to get to baggage, and from behind me I hear, "...and I couldn't see anything 'cause she wouldn't open the fucking window!" 

Done.

I whipped around and yelled, "You never actually asked me to open it!" She pointed and yelled, "It was you!" as I turned back around.  "Yep. It was me."

To my back she said, "You heard me say it like 5 times!" So I turned back again.

"Yes, but you never asked me to open it. Had you asked me to open it, I probably would have, but you never asked me to." She had the decency to at least look a bit taken aback or (could it be?) a little ashamed. I turned back around and hauled ass to Baggage. 

Thank god Hubby was there right away. On the way to the car, I told him about the experience, almost crying because I was so frustrated and upset. I've never sat next to someone so rude and obviously passive-aggressive as this woman was. I had been able to bite my tongue through the flight. Never mind that I got spilled on. Twice. Never mind that she was CLEARLY trying to goad me into opening my shade for her. I let it all go. But bitching about it in the airport after all was said and done? That was the last straw.

Hubby says I did the right thing and not to dwell on it. I'm not dwelling, but I am reflecting and I agree. I did nothing wrong. I don't work for her or take orders from her. I don't have to open my window shade because she wants to see how far up we are (which, btw, is almost impossible from the middle seat anyway, because I sure as hell wasn't going to let her lean over me; I was reading!). I was never addressed, so I never acted. Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.

So, if you're out there, 24E, I'm sorry you couldn't see out the window. But next time, either get a damn window seat, or think about asking someone directly if you can see out their window (just because you're in a row, it doesn't make it your window), rather than being a passive-aggressive tuna* who thinks the world revolves around her every desire. You're old enough to know better, bitch.

*My alternative for the 'C' word.

Scary Stuff

And no, I'm not talking about Halloween kind of scary.

One of my best friends was in a car accident this week.  For the most part, she's OK, but she's understandably shaken up and is sore from the impact.  I wish it hadn't happened, but I'm certainly glad it wasn't worse.

The first time I really remember someone close to me being in a car accident was one of my aunts.  As I remember the story (it was a long time ago now), she was on her way to work and caught a red light at an intersection.  The light turned green and, naturally, she went.  So what happened, you ask?  An ambulance that was coming up to the newly red light at this same intersection got a call.  They hit their lights and continued through the intersection, t-boning my aunt.  Yep.  My aunt was hit by an ambulance.  Of course, then they had to send another ambulance to help, since that ambulance was clearly out of commission.  My aunt broke part of her spine and had to wear a halo for something like 6 months.  Thankfully she's doing fine these days, but needless to say, she was wary of that intersection for quite awhile.

Of course, I had friends get into fender-benders in high school, but nothing that really sticks out in my mind as especially bad.  The next big car accident I can recall was when one of my parents' neighbors fell asleep behind the wheel (at a stop sign, I think) and died.  I'd grown up with his kids, and he had been the Uncle Sam in our neighborhood's 4th of July parade for years.  I remember going to the wake with my parents, and I realized that Dad and I have a very defense mechanism in those types of situations.  We make jokes.  Not loud enough that others can hear, since we don't want to be disrespectful, but it's how we cope with things so that we don't fall apart.

I, fortunately, was not in an accident until about 3 years ago.  In fact, it would've been this coming weekend in 2008.  A few friends and I were headed to Six Flags for Fright Fest.  We were about to make the left turn to get to the park entrance, but the traffic was crazy.  The friend who was driving wasn't sure when she'd be able to go, and there wasn't a turn arrow to be found.  A moment of opportunity came up and she started to go, but hesitated.  One passenger was yelling, "Go!  Go!" and another was screaming, "Wait!  Stop!" and by the time the driver made a decision, it was too late.  The first car we thought was going to hit us managed to swerve out of the way.  The car behind that, though, hit us dead on in the rear passenger door, right where I was sitting.

If you've ever been in an accident, you've probably experienced a lot of the same things I/we did.  First, to this day I can't remember the actual impact.  I remember seeing the car coming, tensing up, and then I remember the feeling of the car being spun around me (since I was kind of at the pivot point), but not the actual point of impact.  When the car stopped, it took about a minute for me to realize that my glasses we no longer on my face.  In fact, they were behind me.  Next, the friend sitting right next to me (in the middle, cushioned between two of us) and I realized that our ponytails had come out.  Yep, the force caused our hair ties to come loose.  One of us called 911 while the driver called her insurance company.  None of us seemed particularly hurt, so we didn't request an ambulance.  One came through later, and my boyfriend (now my hubby), who had come to pick me up, told me he wanted me to get checked out, but it wasn't there for us anyway.  

We had to sit around at the gas station on the corner of the intersection for hours.  It turned out that I had kicked my left leg with my right leg and given myself a nice bruise.  There was also a scrape on my arm, and it might've been a bit swollen, but aside from that and a headache, all seemed well.  Since I took the brunt of the impact, everyone was even less damaged than I was.  I won't go into details, because it was a LONG afternoon, but we eventually decided to forget about Six Flags and just call it a day.  

The next morning when I woke up, my entire body hurt.  I have never in my life felt so stiff and achy.  I was walking like Frankenstein for the better part of the day, and it felt like someone rammed a pole straight up my spine.  Don't even get me started on my neck...  Aye yi yi.  I'm sure some people do fake whiplash, but when it's for real, that shit HURTS.

Looking back, I probably should've gotten checked over after the accident, just to make sure everything was OK.  Fortunately, I healed up after a few weeks and was back to normal.  Well, physically.  Even now, when I'm in the passenger side of a car and we make a left turn with oncoming traffic, I tense up and hold my breath.  I don't do it on purpose, really.  I think my body just doesn't want to feel that pain again, so it's become a knee-jerk reaction.      

For anyone interested, the driver of the car that hit us was really shaken up (she couldn't have been older than 16 or 17), but otherwise alright.  Both cars were pretty much totaled (I had to climb out the other passenger door to get out, since mine was partially caved in), but all the people involved were relatively unscathed.  

Since then, I've been in two "accidents." The first was when I was driving from Milwaukee to Madison at night in a snow storm.  I was going maybe 25 MPH on the interstate when my phone rang.  It was my mom, and I didn't want her to worry, so I answered.  "Where are you?"  "Crashing.  Can I call you back?"  I grazed a guard rail, which was not the best thing that could've happened, but certainly wasn't the worst. 

The other was a situation where Hubby was at a stop sign, about to turn, and got rear-ended by a minivan.  Fortunately, the only damage was a small part of the van (like part of the headlight, maybe) and no one was hurt.  Phew.

Moral of this post?  Buckle up, kids!  It can get bumpy out there...

 

Holy wow, man.

1) It was 80 yesterday.  It's 50 today.  Wtf, spring?

2) I am SO behind with work, but have little to no motivation to get caught up.

3) We got rear-ended yesterday on our way to pick up dinner.  We're fine and all, but it was kind of scary.

4) I miss being on vacation.

5) 3 more weeks of the semester... I can do it!  I think...

New Theory

You know how sometimes you wake up before you have to because you have GOT to pee?  You pretty much have two options: Stay in bed and hope that you can sleep through it without waking up soaked in your own urine OR get up and pee.  I typically get up and pee.

My theory is that when you do this, your bladder only expels as much as it needs to in order for you to be comfortable enough to get back to sleep.  Because seriously, no matter when it happens, I STILL have to pee first thing when I get up.  So unless I'm sleep-drinking, my bladder clearly isn't getting emptied that first time around.

This has been a random theory by yours truly.  Have a good day!

Snow Day? I Wish...

Again, one of the non-perks of working from home is that you don't get snow days.  In fact, it's hard to even take a sick day (it's not like you're going to get anyone at the office sick, you know?) unless you really feel like crap.  

Thus far, my non-snow day has sucked.  

• Woke up and looked outside to see the world covered in snow.  No big surprise.  However, my fear of how I was going to let the dog out escalated when I could open either of our screen doors more than an inch.
• Woke the hubby up so he could advise me on the best method for doing so.  He tried to help me put some boots on, but that didn't work.  They were supposed to go over my shoes, but kept getting stuck.
• Hubby managed to open the door about a foot.  I held on to the pupper's leash and let her wander a few steps.  When she realized she wasn't going any further, she got the hint and took a piss.  However, she was then COVERED in snow (since the drifts are twice as tall as her... at MINIMUM), which was not so fun to deal with.
• That's when hubby managed to fall down the basement stairs.  This is the 3rd time it's happened since we moved into this house.  Those stairs are scary steep, we have NO railings, and the floor was starting to get wet from the snow that was falling in from having the door open.  Not cool.
• Hubby checked his email.  Of course, HE has a snow day.  Ugh.  We were supposed to both be working and miserable!  Instead, I am now working while he sleeps.  -le sigh-

To help, I did make some popcorn (and used REAL butter on it for the first time in ages... soooo good).  But really, that only helps so much.  Reading on Facebook about everyone's snow days and not being at work just makes me wish we had a sympathy snow day or something.  But, alas, that's what I get for "being able to work in my pajamas all the time!"  (The next person to say that will likely come to regret that decision.)

Here's to a long day that just keeps dragging on...

Impending Snow of DOOM!

I missed Moronic Monday yesterday.  I know.  Sorry, yo.  I sort of had something, but it was WAY too serious for my usual MM posts, so I nixed it and just didn't get back to it in time.

Anywhoozles, in comes the blizzard that may bury us all.  Well, maybe not.  But if they're anywhere close to right, we'll be getting what I refer to as a metric shit-ton of snow over the next few days.  Such is life in Wisco, but that doesn't mean I have to be pleased about it.

While I don't personally have to go out in the snow (one of the perks of working from home), hubby does, and I worry about him being out there with all the morons who forget how to drive each time it snows.  Things like this tend to happen...  Not good.

Here's hoping everyone stays safe and warm for the next few days!

Moronic Monday - Shopping For Morons

It may seem like a weak connection for Moronic Monday, but seriously? Anyone who goes out in public like these people has to be a freakin' idiot.  There's really nothing else to explain most of those looks.

Ok, I suppose some of them could have been doing it on purpose (especially the group wearing newspapers...  God, I can only hope that was supposed to be some kind of message or something).  And some of the butt-flossers could have just been caught at the wrong moment (hey, these things happen).  But I really just believe most of them lack the brain power to realize what they're wearing makes them look like they belong on the special bus and/or the ability to keep track of dates (thus they didn't realize it's not Halloween anymore).

Either way, I could walk into Walmart in my PJs and look more capable than most of these folks.  And that makes me feel good.  Happy Monday, everyone!

Moronic Monday - I'll Take "I'm An Idiot" For $400, Alex

You know, sometimes all you need to do to feel smarter is turn on the TV*.  There are stupid people all over the damn place!  

For example, check out some of the awesomely stupid answers people have given on game shows over the years.  Yes, stress and anxiety have a lot to do with it, I'm sure, but really?  Let's be honest.  Some of these people are just plain dumb.

On the plus side, you can feel much better about knowing how many legs a cow has when Johnny Not-So-Smart calls out "six!"  

*Note that watching too much TV will likely have adverse affects and your brain may turn to gravy.  Hasn't happened yet, but, someday...

Moronic Monday - Ouch

We all know that accidents happen.  It's part of life!  Sometimes there's a viable excuse ("I didn't want to hit the cute squirrel/bunny/dog/giraffe!  I had to swerve!"), but sometimes, it's just better to keep your mouth shut, lest you come up with something like this. 

P.S.  I think my personal favorite is, "I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced at my mother-in-law, and headed over the embankment."  Priceless.