I'm Bringing Crabby Back

Right now, it is 7:40 pm, and I'm counting down the seconds until I can put the laundry in the dryer so I can put myself to bed.

Any minute now.

I can't leave it in the washer, or it will develop the gafunky smell that I spent most of the spring trying to get out of my washer and most of my laundry. If people could see the things I Google, there would be some teasing, I assure you. More surprising is my success rate with weird googling. Folks talk about ANYTHING on the internet, sheesh. It was Pine Sol that did it finally, for those that are curious. Gross Pine Sol with a load of old rags because I felt too guilty to run the washer while it was empty as recommended by the Google gods.

So, because I am just REALLY LUCKY LIKE THAT, I got my period yesterday, like, early. A lot of days early. I'm usually really prepared for winning the monthly lottery- I set up the Red Tent right on the deck, and T takes over for a week to ten days.

Or I take a lot of Advil and make jokes about what it must look like to leave the scene of my own murder. So when I was super (pleasantly) surprised yesterday, I took two Advil at around 10:00 pm and went to bed.

I mean, I thought I took two Advil. Instead, I took two Advil PM's. Awesome.

See, I have no tolerance for medicine. I can't take Nyquil or Benadryl for fear of becoming Rip Van Winkle, the non-drowsy stuff makes my heart pound and my hands shake. It may be that I'm suggestible, but I prefer to think of it as having a delicate constitution. So last night, while in the throes of Accidental Advil Remorse, I composed fabulous, witty yet heartrending entries in my head and saw tracers on my ceiling. Then I passed out.

Equipped with a rockin' Accidental Advil hangover, I was in NO WAY prepared for today's suckfest of having to be out of the house all day while our new windows were being installed. (Poor me, having to suffer the indignities of shiny new windows, I know.) There were no naps, no properly gated play areas, and not enough caffeine in the WORLD. While it was so great to sleep with Johnny when he was an infant, it is just freaking terrible to try it now. My mom has a crib at her house, and I tried to put him down there, but he was having none of it. So I laid on the couch with him for a while. Well. There was head-butting, hair-pulling, and orifice spelunking GALORE going on. At one point he was pulling my hair with his teeth while one of his baby fingers was up my nose and another was fish-hooking my mouth. It was so restful!

Today, Johnny got one day older. And no laundry was left to stink up the washer overnight. And I have shiny new windows. And the Accidental Advil will be put somewhere out of my unsuspecting reach.

Tomorrow will be better.