The reason for this post is twofold. One, because I just made some changes in the way we compute here at the Hermitage and I want to make sure everything is playing nice together. And two, I have another Crazy Lady story to tell.
Yesterday I felt like crap, still don't feel perky today, but better, thanx for askin'. I don't want to step on anyones sensibilities here but I gotta be honest. Yesterday, I started my period. AGAIN. Yes the 16 day cycle from hell (please, oh please Goddess of Menopause wave your magic tampon on a stick and make it all go away) has once again knocked on my door. Aunt Martha has come a vistin' again. I'm assuming you all know the baggage she bring. Cramps, nausea, headache, weird food cravings and, um, altered emotional states. Yeah, I'm bitchy. As if the rest of the symptoms aren't enough to make a woman grumpy, consider the waxing and waning hormones, or in my case, the surging and retreating armies on the battlefield of premenopausal mommy bits. It's enough to make a sane woman a raving lunatic.....so where does that leave me? Uh huh, nuff said.
Now, the Crazy Lady part of the story.......Oh sorry, you thought the above was the crazy part? Nope, there's more..... Joe's working nights this week, so, lucky man that he is, he is either sleeping or at work and he doesn't have to suffer through much time of having me as his companion. Now the animals, IdaMae and Ben, they are, well, animals thus (wo)man's companions. They don't know any better. In fact, when I'm feeling lousy they never leave my side. (such good babies) I spent most of yesterday doing relatively nothing but pacing the floor, tripping over animals, eating an incredible amount and variety, of junk and arguing with myself if my gut, back, or head hurt worse. I had considered going to bed but Joe was in there and, well, you know, he was breathing. That pissed me off. I couldn't go to bed under such circumstances!!!
By the time Joe left for work I was exhausted. I grabbed the Easter basket my SIL had given us, a bag of cheetos, a hunk of smelly cheese, some grapes, yogurt, crackers, a can of Mt. Dew, a glass of wine, and crawled into bed. There was nothing on tv. It pissed me off. I watched/dozed through, that stupid, stupid, My Favorite Martian movie with Jeff Daniels, Christopher Lloyd, Daryl Hannah movie...it pissed me off. I ran out of food, it pissed me off. Ida had been so obligingly laying on my lap (all 70+ pounds of her) keeping me warm and acting as a foil against the contractions in my gut...then she moved...it pissed me off. Yep, I was such a happy camper!!!
Then, as is the way, when things are waxing and waning, ebbing and flowing, attacking and retreating, I was all chipper. Of course some of that sugar and alcohol could have had something to do with my improved state of being...dunno. But I was feeling pretty good. All symptoms abated except one, the headache. Still there, low key, but lurking. Many, many years of experience have taught me to be very cautious at this point. That hollow place in my head that's located right beneath the hair that hurts is likely to explode into a full blown migraine at any minute with or without provocation. I'm VERY careful at this stage of the dance with Mr. Migraine. If I play the wallflower long enough he just might not want to dance. Thus I take on the Miss Manners persona. (I know it's a stretch but hear me out) As Miss Manners I don't get riled up. I don't speak in tones nor in decibels high enough to do anything other than calm a crying baby. I sit and stand erect, (no slouching) and merely glide across the floor, when movement is absolutely necessary, as if a book was balanced on my head. Aside from turning into Miss Manners the best thing to do at this point to make Mr. Migraine give up and go home, is to go to sleep. Not a problem, except that I had an Easter basket, various wrappers, cans, plates, glasses and flatware in my bed.....way too much stuff to just shove over to Joe's side which is what I do most of the time. So I got up and began take all that junk to kitchen. I had to make 3 trips, doing the Debutante Waltz, gliding across the floor, spine erect, chin high, no swaying of hips, (book balancing on top of hair that hurts).
On my last return from the kitchen to the bedroom I noticed something on the floor. Mind you, I glimpsed it. Debutantes don't turn their heads, and most assuredly they don't look down! This is what I saw:
Aaagggrrrhhhh!!! IdaMae what have you done?!? I was speechless. Ok , that's a lie, I had plenty to say through my clenched debutante teeth, but the words were all in hushed soothing tones. Really, honest. I scolded her in a scathing Miss Manners way, and bemoaned the fact that there had to more someplace, cuz, come on, IdaMae is 70+ pounds. I begged her to tell me where it was. (Gotta say right here and now, that this was the very first time Ida had ever done anything like that. Not even as a puppy) Ida wasn't talking. She was sulking and she was trying to make friends with me, but she wasn't talking. I glided (remember I'm trying to be a wallflower) into the kitchen to get cleaning supplies and Ida followed me, tail between her legs. I knelt before the kitchen sink, chin still high, spine erect, and groped around under the sink trying to find, by touch the proper cleaning supplies. Ida was standing there half hidden behind the peninsula that holds the cook top. Hmmmmm that hang dog look on her face seemed to indicate more distress in that direction, so I glided on my knees over there. (it's difficult to glide on ones knees.) The knees weren't liking that too well so I sat, erect, no slouching chin held high and scooted the rest of the way.
Now to the chore at hand. Just imagine how a person might go about "looking" for...um...foreign matter, on the floor when said person can't lower their head to look. Sure you could stand back a ways and look from a distance, but in a closed in tight area? Nope you can't get far enough back to see everything. So logically one must takes a couple of paper towels, wraps them around her hands and slowly scan the area searching for the slightest resistance. (ya know, cuz of...ewwww...!) After canvasing the area several times and not "bumping" into anything (with a LOT of help from Ben who thought this was fabulous game while Ida kept nuzzling my neck) I was beginning to think that there wasn't any foreign matter over there. I glanced down a few times and was met with Mr. Migraine introducing himself. Couldn't do that anymore. I thought about getting the broom and sweeping the area, but nay, that might make a bigger a mess. (again I say ewwww) So I decided to assume there wasn't anything back there and if there was, it wasn't in the normal traffic pattern so Joe wouldn't step in it when he came home in the morning. Now on to the rest of the house....sigh. I scoot-glided all around the kitchen, spine erect, chin held high, paper towel wrapped hands scanning the floor for foreign matter. Nope, none there, at least none that I could feel or see from a distance. On to the dinning room where the foreign matter was first glimpsed, and then living room. Oh no the living room! There aren't any lights in there!!! I'm gonna need the flash light!!! So I got up, glided back to the pantry and grabbed the flashlight.
I slowly did the Debutante Waltz through the short hall between the kitchen and dinning room marveling at just how close to the foreign matter I must have stepped on my first two trips to the kitchen from the bedroom with the refuse of my binge. I gingerly lowered myself to one knee, chin still high (book still balanced) and reached for the present Ida had left. Groping around without looking I eventually caught hold of it. WTF!!!! Yes, it was foreign matter, yes, it was a present from IdaMae......No, it was NOT what I thought it was.......it was a rock..........sigh