Srsly effed up

Will and Kelsey are camping with my parents. They left on Monday and will come back on Saturday. What I have asked myself since I got home on Monday night is wtf is wrong with me? I have no kids. I should be doing things that people that have no kids do. (What do people that have no kids do?) Instead, I find myself a little out of sorts.

Next Monday, I am going in for foot surgery. What this means it that I'm basically useless for two weeks. The first few days, I can't even go to the bathroom without help. It's srsly fun, ppl. So without the kids here to drive me fraking crazy entertain me with their cute children antics, I'm slowly driving myself crazy. Eight weeks of being laid up is not my idea of a good time. And although I'm not the biggest exercise advocate, that doesn't mean that I don't want to do it once in awhile. Instead I'll be sitting on my butt eating kettle chips and drinking gatorade, watching re-runs of Buffy while being doped up on pain pills.

Good times.

In addition to worry to the point of making myself physically ill, I've also decided to worry about whether Jack will actually stick around after my surgery when I'm as loopy as, well, a fruit loop. Even though he hung around two years ago when I had the same surgery, I keep flashing back to when I had my wisdom teeth pulled. He settled me on the couch with the doctor's warnings (don't leave the patient alone, she might walk out into traffic and get hit by a car) ringing in his ears, gave me the remote and went to play 18 holes of golf. After that, I decided to plan a spa day when I brought him home from getting his wisdom teeth pulled.

To top it all off, Jack got me at a weak point (read: drinking point) on Friday night when I was in Newport Beach. He asked me if I wanted to play softball b/c they needed an extra girl. He cajoled me with the fact that it will be the last time I'll be able to do anything for eight weeks. Being the happy person I am when I was drinking, I enthusiastically agreed that it would be great. I wouldn't even have to worry about the kids b/c they weren't home. Now I can only hope that when the forecasted thunderstorm hits, I'm not up to bat with a piece of metal in my hand while lightning strikes.

Just a little warning...any posts up over the next two weeks will be done while under the influence of pain medication. If it doesn't make sense, at least it will be entertaining.

Hangover Hell

Jack's brother came into town from Spokane last Thursday to visit for the weekend. He's newly single, so I talked to a friend from work about going out on Saturday night. We went to a comedy club, which I remember as being extremely funny. Idaho is only second to Utah when it comes the Mormon population. This joke cracked me up:

So as I said, I'm newly married. Of course, being Mormon, that means I'm still dating.

Okay, maybe you had to be there.

So then we went to this bar/club and after that we went to this other bar/club. We closed the place down. Srsly. Those who know me well know that I do not stay up until FOUR IN THE MORNING. Ever. I don't even stay up until 2am. Even when we go to my sister's house, I can't stay up that late. I just don't do it.

It was the beer. That's all I was drinking...beer. It must have been a whole hell of a lot of beer b/c I felt like shit yesterday. About 9 last night, I called Jack upstairs and told him that I didn't think it was a hangover, it had to be the stomach flu. I mean, I was having hot/cold flashes, I had a low grade fever, I felt like I was going to vomit all day long. All I had to eat was one piece of toast and two bites of oatmeal. It had to be the stomach flu.

::snort::

Jack wouldn't let me get away with that. It wasn't my blondness showing as much as it was the fact that I never get hangovers. Well, there was that one time at my Christmas party, but that was like 2 years ago.

There was no way I was telling the kids that "Mommy is sick, she needs quiet time" b/c that just reeks to me. So last night found the three of us laying in my bed watching Kelsey's favorite episode of Charmed.

The moral of the story is that I don't think I want to have a beer EVER AGAIN.