Every day, Monday through Friday, my alarm goes off at the same time, and every day that information stuns me. "What the--? Seriously? The alarm is going off? GOD!" Every day it's all, "The nation was rocked when June's alarm went off at 6:54 a.m."
I hate getting up.
I have a dumb day planned, as I am only working till 1:00 in order to take Ned to his wisdom teeth removal. Oh, he'll be fine. They aren't even impacted. He is worried about it, though, as I guess I would be. I've had three out, at three different times. One of the times, I was lying on this table, and the nurse came in. "Okay," she said, pulling out a needle, "we're going to give you something now."
"Okay," I said. Shots don't bother me and generally I end up loving whatever floaty feeling I get during these kinds of procedures.
The nurse was messing with tools and such over at the counter, and I said, "Are we going to go into the room now to get started?"
"We're done, honey."
"No! We aren't done. You just gave me the shot."
"That was an hour and a half ago. You're all done."
IT WAS THE WEIRDEST THING. I completely lost all time from the second that shot went in till that nurse was at the counter. She was probably more of a dental assistant and not a nurse, wasn't she? Hoo care.
Oh, and speaking of Tallulah, the other night I was going to the grocery store for my staples: cat food and coffee, and when I got out my car, right there in the car next to me was Penny, my friend TinaDoris' dog.
"BOW WOW WOW WOW WOW grrrrrr-WOW!" said Penny, showing me her teeth and scowling and getting torches and pitchforks and bombs.
I went into the store, and there was TinaDoris and her spouse, buying muzzles or anti-rabies pills or cleanup rags for when your dog foams at the mouth at someone she's MET 80 TIMES or something. "Your dog just yelled at me," I said.
"She hates being confined in the car," said TinaDoris. At least they don't ever have to worry about anyone stealing their car. Or putting a puppy in it. That's the same parking lot that someone put a puppy in MY car, and if it's remotely warm enough I leave the window open, still, just in case.
Best delivery ever.
I know I've told you this story before, but I've been blogging for SIX YEARS. I've told you EVERY story before. But I had the world's most marvelous cat, Mr. Horkheimer, who died seven years ago today in fact, and anyway in Seattle I had a fireplace in my room. Horkie would sleep on my bed all day because cats have it rough.
One day, he was snoozing in there as he is wont to do, when blark, something falls out of the chimney and onto the floor of the fireplace.
It was a nest of baby birds.
Can you imagine?
Hork was not one to be kind to birds when they were grown up and able to flitter about normally, so you can imagine the evil smorgasbord he had with a whole bowl of flightless babies. My roommate Paula came home to find the carnage. She threw Horkie outside, and she said he plastered himself to the window like that Far Side cartoon while she cleaned everything up.
The point is, for the rest of the time we lived there, Hork would wander over to the fireplace every so often and look up. It's like he wondered where the lever was to pull for more baby birds. That's how I feel when I leave my window down at the parking lot where I got a puppy once.
Ohmygod I wonder if I could drift further from my point. Which was that I am taking Ned to get his wisdom teeth out. "If you feel okay, what're we going to do tonight?" I asked, knowing making out was off the table and therefore flummoxed. "There's a sporting event on," said Ned, who probably told me specifically WHICH sporting event it was and did not say "sporting event," although now he is starting to say just that because that's what I say. The point is I'm bringing a book over there.
Also, my boss calls Ned MAMF, because the first time I mentioned him to my boss, I said, "Well, calling him my boyfriend seems weird, because we're 47. He's my middle-aged manfriend," I said. So somehow that got shortened to MAMF. "How was your weekend?" my boss will ask. "Did you and MAMF go anywhere fun?"
So yesterday my boss called me at my desk. "Say, do you think you'll have time to do this before you go off MAMFing at 1:00?"
MAMFing. Now Ned is a verb.
Okay, I'm off. Am totally going to dress Ned up in wee Uggs and wigs while he's asleep. So tune in tomorrow.