Well, actually, it wasn't a terrible, horrible, no good, bad weekend. It was a pretty good weekend, all things considered. Could've been much worse. But it wasn't, and for that, I am truly grateful.
It all started on Friday. I had to work a crappy four hour shift. It was an inventory prep shift which meant we had to go around and check for tickets and make the stockroom idiot proof because, in one short week, the RGIS inventory specialists are coming. If you recall my inventory blog from last year, you'll recall that the RGIS inventory specialists are, well, they're idiots, thus the idiot proofing of the stockroom. The only thing the RGIS inventory specialists can count accurately are the minutes from one cigarette break to the next.
This year I imagine we'll be hearing a lot of moaning and groaning from the RGIS inventory specialists not just because they really really need a cigarette but also because the infinitely stupid people at corporate decided to have inventory on Sunday night. On February the First. Superbowl Freaking Sunday. Because apparently, the corporate office hates America. Well, at the very least, they hate the outlet division. But I have really made my peace with all that, even though it may not seem like it, because I don't much care who wins the Superbowl this year. I, personally, at the risk of insulting a lot of Arizona fans, think it's a waste of a Superbowl. It sucks that a team with a crappy regular season record is in the Superbowl while my beloved Pats are not in the Superbowl. And let's not even talk about the Steelers. When Wes Welker gets penalized for making a snow angel the same amount of yardage that the Steelers get penalized for nearly putting that same guy in the frakking hospital....Yeah. See what I mean? Let's just not go there.
But this is digressing. Ruthie and I did our best to make the stockroom idiot proof although the weekend crew has surely undid everything we've done by now. Our delivery guy came and dropped off more product because that's just what we wanted. More product for the RGIS inventory specialists to count. Especially when that product is bermuda shorts and flip flops because that's what everyone wants to buy when it's five below outside.
What our delivery guy did not bring, however, were paychecks. Which kind of sucked because it was a paycheck day. The other truck had them and was going to drop them off.We used to have UPS deliveries but again, the America hating corporate office decided to switch to FedEx. When UPS brought our boxes, they were at the backdoor, paychecks in hand before noon. Without fail. This is nice when your shifts ends at 1pm and you want to go to the bank to deposit your check (Sorry, but not everyone has or wants direct deposit. I'm one of them.) before they close. But now that FedEx is running the show, they can show up apparently any time they damn well feel like it. So Ruthie and I left sans paycheck.
I went home and puttered around a bit and took the dogs outside to play for a little while. Mischa can be outside without a leash. As long as she has something in her mouth (in this story, it's a rope bone.), she just lopes around the yard in big circles but never strays too far. Sebastian, not so much. It's weird because he's so hyper focused on his mom that you'd think, especially if you've seen and/or heard him cry when I leave the room, he'd attach himself to my hip, but no. When he gets outside, his primal urge to pee on everything in sight takes over and he forgets to come back. So Sebastian goes outside on leash. But I use a long leash so he can at least feel free.So we three went outside. Mischa ran, Sebastian peed and I wandered behind. Every now and then, Mischa would bring her rope bone for me to throw. I'd throw the rope bone and she would run madly after it. Sebastian would sort of trot along behind her, never too close to avoid being tagged in the face, and I would trot along behind him. It's a great system and everyone's tired at the end of it.
Then, while Sebastian and I were standing in the center of the driveway, Mischa brought me her rope bone. I took it from her and made sure everyone's feet were clear of the long leash and I threw it. Mischa ran down the driveway after the bone. Sebastian also took off, no more trotting, but more a sudden burst of speed you didn't know the damn dog had, and in the opposite direction of the rope bone, meaning the opposite direction in which I had expected him to take.
Well, long story short, I was jerked around and right off my feet. I had a moment when everything slowed down and I was in the air, looking down at the driveway and thinking, "Shit. This is gonna hurt." And then I did a face plant. And, yeah, it hurt.
I thought I'd broken my nose, to be honest. I laid face down in the driveway thinking, "Frak. I broke my frakking nose. I cannot believe I broke my frakking nose!" It hurt. A lot. And my eyes wouldn't stop watering and my head was swimming and then I realized how much my hand hurt and then Mischa brought her rope bone back and shoved it in my face so I could throw it for her again. I declined.
Instead, I pushed myself up and called the dogs to the house and staggered back inside.I took off collars and stumbled into the bathroom to ascertain the status of my face. There was no blood but was red and swollen and it still really hurt. As did the rest of my head. The thumb on my right hand was refusing to bend. I sat down so I could strip off my cold weather gear and then went to the freezer to get a bag of frozen peas. I got a dish towel and went out to the living room to lay on the couch. With a bag of frozen peas on my face. I laid on the couch, fended off the dogs and put the peas on my nose. It hurt. The bag weighed too much to just sit on my face so I had to hold it with my left hand to allievate as much pressure and weight as possible.
Joe came home after a while and I was still on the couch, still holding a bag of peas and still trying to find a somewhat comfortable position. Joe wandered into the living room, took one look at me and said," What happened to you?"
"I took the dogs outside and-" I started to say.
"Hey," he interrupted. "Is Battlestar Galactica on yet?"
I took the peas off my face and sat up. I was not amused by this. I was not amused that he would ask me what happened and then interrupt me to ask me a question he already knew the answer to because more than once in the last week we had discussed Battlestar Galactica and the exact day and time it would be on. In fact, the last time we had had that conversation had only been two hours prior to his arrival home. So I got pissed. I was pissed because my head hurt, my nose hurt, my hand hurt, and he didn't even frakking care. Now, Joe's kind of an asshole and he;s kind of a jerk about a lot of things and normally it makes me laugh and call him an asshole and move on with life. But not then. Apparently, I'd left my sense of humor in the center of the driveway. So I called him a string of not nice names, told him I hated him and then laid back down with a bag of peas carefully balanced on my nose.
"Your nose is fine," he scoffed. "Get over it."
I then thought about repeatedly kicking him in the balls and telling him to get over that but as it required me to once again get off the couch, I decided against it.
So time passed. Joe, seeming to understand that he was in trouble, tried to ask me what happened. I flipped him off and declined to answer. Later, when the peas had defrosted, I got off the couch and made myself some dinner, thinking how nice it would have been had Joe maybe volunteered to make something for me, or at least asked if there was something he could do. I took a couple of Aleve pills and then sat in the living room, holding my head together, and tried to watch television. I need glasses when I watch television but, like the peas, they hurt too much to wear and so I was stuck watching a blurry episode of Monk. I didn't even attempt to watch Psych or Battlestar Galactica, but left them for the DVR to record. I took the dogs outside because Joe wouldn't and we all went to bed. One big happy family.
Saturday, Joe took the dogs' morning shift, so I slept late. My head still hurt. My nose still hurt. My hand hurt less. I got out of bed and discovered that I had apparently bruised some ribs in my ever so graceful face plant because MAN, did they hurt. I went downstairs, had more Aleve and watched some television. Still couldn't wear my glasses but found out that laughing with bruised ribs really kind of hurts. So I went down to the computer in th emy office. I guilted Joe into helping me fix the broken pages on my website. Took a shower and went to the grocery store to find something to make for dinner. Found out I probably should not have been driving because I was a little dizzy as I walked around the store. I came home and sat on the couch some more and read a book about faeries. At dinner, Joe and Heather and I comtemplated how much Aleve a person could take. Heather figured I should go for it because the worse that could happen was that I'd just pass out and then Joe could take me to the emergency room. I compromised and only took one more even though the bottle said not to exceed three pills in twenty four hours and I was working on three pills in eight hours. Did I mention how much my nose hurt? Went to bed and had weird dreams about faeries.
Sunday came around and again Joe took the morning shift so I tried to sleep but my ribs hurt and I couldn't get comfortable. So I got up. Took more Aleve and went to the office to work on my website some more. I also wrote a scene for Second Nature, the sequel to Effigy. I worked on Effigy's synopsis (two paragraphs and two sentences! Only two and a half to nine and a half pages to go!) and wrote some song lyrics. My friend Mike write music in his spare time and asked me to try and write lyrics in my spare time.
It's interesting, writing lyrics. Haven't really done much of that before. It's like writing poetry. Haven't really done much of that before either. I tend to write poetry when uber depressed and, unfortunately, I guess, I haven't been that depressed in a while. So I wrote some lyrics. They're based on Effigy so maybe that helped. Joe read them and said it reads like a poem and we talked about how my lyrics have rhyme and rhythm and meaing and whatever and a lot of songs just have really stupid lyrics. So now I'm worried about the lyrics being totally wrong, but I guess that'll be for Mike to decide when he reads them. I have to write one more verse and the chorus and I think they'll be finished but I'm having a very hard time writing the chorus.
So, to try and promote thought, I walked around the house singing the song in different fashions. Celtic folk song, broadway (in the shower...I always sing broadway in the shower.), a funeral dirge, etc. Joe tried to help by suggesting different artists, actual rock artists and the like, for me to try. It was kind of funny because I was so very bad at it.
I finished reading the faerie book and started reading A Walk In The Woods by Bill Bryson. It's a hysterically funny book about a man who hikes the Appalachian (hehe...I typed "application" first.) Trail. This, I believe, annoyed Joe because I would laugh out loud and then follow each burst with, "Ow!" while clutching my side. I decided to stop after four chapters. Better to rest and then start again in the morning.
So that pretty much wraps up the weekend. The computer says it's just about midnight so I think I'm good to take some more Aleve and crawl into bed and dream about faeries (or Jacoby Ellsbury...I had an awesome Jacoby Ellsbury dream last week.) and lyrics and whatnot. Here's hoping I can wear my glasses again tomorrow. Hope y'all had a good weekend too! G'nite!