Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Things Happen in Threes. Or Fours. Or, All at Once!

I arrived at work today thinking, "The only other thing that could have gone wrong would have been the horse getting hit by a car." So, let me bring you up to speed on just what has gone miserably wrong in my sad little life the last few days:

  1. My email was hacked after some (bogus) correspondences on craigslist. Apparantly all emails headed my way are answered with "unknown recipient" and sent back to the sender. When I try to log in I get "You violated our terms of agreement. Account closed." MSN is "working on it." Right. So, hang in there. I'll be emailing in no time....
  2. My dog is sick.
  3. My husband is sick.
  4. The baby woke up 3x last night.
  5. The coyotes were so loud last night - I fear they've savaged the pigs.
Scene: My house, last night, 6:00pm.

After feeding the horse, the dog and preparing dinner, the dog won't eat his dinner. He never misses a meal.

Me: "Hmm. Griz won't eat his dinner."
Todd: "That's weird."
Then, upon discovering his stomach is distended and rigid,
Me: "His stomach is full and hard."
Todd: "Oh yeah, he was eating some flax fines when I fed the pigs."
Me: "How much did he eat?"
Todd: "Uh. I don't know. A bit, I guess."
Me: "Great."

That was followed by four bouts of *arfing* (you know, that noise they make when they're going to barf?), followed by four bouts of me bolting from bed to let him out to barf, followed by four bouts of getting back up to let him in the house after repeated scratching at the door. The final answer was to put his dog bed outside at 2am this morning. Not before he barfed all over our bedroom floor. Luckily enough he ate all the barf and Todd only stepped in a wet post-barf spot. Eating the barf might be what made him sick too.

Then, it seemed like everytime I was just about asleep after the dog episodes, I had a five-alarm baby episode. Five alarm being how many lights light up on the monitor when he screams. Usually only 2 or 3 light up for medium screaming, but we were all-out last night and had three five-alarm screaming fits. Those were treated with 6 trips by me to his bedside. (One trip to go get him and return to my bed to feed him, and then one trip to take him back to his crib after he was back asleep.) Let me say that wears a person pretty ragged.

Sometime around, oh, I'm guessing 11:00 last night, was the loudest, scariest coyote howling fit. That woke us both up and left us wondering how our pigs faired now that they're living in the woods. More on that later.... Hopefully we don't discover their ravaged carcasses today.

Then, at 5:00 this morning (I was awake feeding the baby) I realized Todd was still in bed. Not good since he reports to work at 4:00am.

Me: "Are you OK?"
Todd: "No. I don't feel good. It feels like my jaw is clenched shut."
Me: "Are you calling in?"
Todd: "Will you do it for me?"
No.
Please?
No.
Please?
No. I did it last time.
Please?
No.

So, let's recap: We have a sick husband (possibly with lockjaw), a baby who suddenly decided he doesn't require sleep, a dog who is probably compacted with flax cereal and won't stop barfing, and possibly three dead pigs. Really, what else is there?

Oh yeah, when I got to work (because, yes, I still had to go today after only about 2 hours of sleep...) there were emails upon emails upon notes regarding a broken instrument I oversee. And my boss breathing down my neck wondering "how long we'll be down for?" I didn't have the balls to tell him probably longer than he wants considering I'm probably calling in sick tomorrow. But then, why ruin the surprise?!

2 comments:

  1. I am calling your boss to tell him the good news! You can intercept this call by sending a large "donation" to my 401K or Ethan's college fund! Sorry to hear about the problems within the family. At our house, K is sick, Mini-E is sick, and the dog just wants attention from anyone she can get it from. Me? I am all right. K? Close to walking zombie. Mini-E? Grumpy. Dog? Owns the house. Fun times...f-u-n times! bradford

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  2. 1. DO NOT, under any circumstances, utter the phrase "it can't get any worse". God will only fuck you over if you say that. You've learned that from me, right?

    2. Would it really be the worst things in the world if the pigs were all dead?

    3. HANG IN THERE! Call me if you need to vent. Or whatever. ;-)

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