I started my lovely day of independence and freedom by taking myself out for breakfast. Which was lovely, until
appeared out of nowhere and landed on my neck. A big one.
Fortunately for me, I lost my arthropod phobia probably a year ago. I hadn’t discovered the joy of RSS, so I had to keep refreshing I Blame the Patriarchy to see if she’d written anything new, and she left (warning: image of a giant centipede, not for the faint of heart) this up for a really long time. Non-Texas-sized bugs don’t seem to phase me any more.
I flicked the beetle off my neck, and it fell down the front of my shirt. When I flicked it out of my cleavage, it landed in the whipped cream on top of my waffle. I picked it off the waffle, making sure I also took the whipped cream it had touched. And then the beetle woke up and kept on trying to crawl back into my plate, so I had to eat with one hand and beetle-herd with the other. (I didn’t want to alarm the waitstaff and make them fuss and make me another waffle, and I felt like the beetle had had enough excitement for the day. Maybe this makes me odd. )
Then it was off to the grocery store. I’d forgotten my list at home, but I was jumped up on coffee, so I remembered not only all the things that would have been on my list if I’d had it with me, but important things I forgot to put on the list. Like pitstick. (Incidentally, what’s up with all the fruity scents they have for women’s deodorant these days? My armpits are not supposed to smell like Luscious Peach or Sparkling Pomegranate. Save that stuff for soda pop and bubble bath.)
Apparently everybody likes to do their grocery shopping first thing in the morning in my town. The lineups were really, really long. Just as I got to be next in line for the checkouts, there was a bzzzorch noise, and the power went out. We all waited a while, and then it turned out that it wasn’t just the store, it was a few blocks that were out, so they had us pull out our perishables for them to put away, and leave a note with our names and phone numbers on our carts so they could call us to come back.
I went home, had a nice chat on the phone with my mom, and then decided to have a nap because that late night was starting to catch up with me, and besides it’s Saturday, I can nap if I want to. Not according to the cats. They were the loviest I’ve ever experienced them. It wasn’t good enough for them to lie on me or next to me. They wanted pettins, and if the pettins stopped for even a moment, they’d bring on the headbutts and whrrt noises. One cat would get its fill and leave, only to be replaced a couple minutes later (just long enough to start nodding off) by the other one. Knead, knead, whrrrt, whrrt.
Eventually I decided it was odd that the grocery store hadn’t called back, so I went back. They had just finished putting away all the abandoned groceries. They had called. While I was on the phone with my mom. There wasn’t time to find everything again, as well as go back through the checkout line, before it would be time to go get Arb and give him his car back.
I went one more time after Arb’s work, and got everything I needed. Plus a nice case of heat exhaustion. Three trips in a hot car (no AC), on a very hot day (no AC at home either), and being constantly covered in cats in between car trips, for a fat woman whose new antidepressant both raises her body temperature and reduces her ability to sweat, are apparently a BAD THING. Who would have guessed.