I’m thinking it’s time to rename this blog to the “Bite Me Blog.” Because that’s the sentiment I seem to be expressing the most here.
I’ve been in a mood. Why am I in a mood? It could be so many things. But let’s start with (a partial list of) what it’s not:
It’s not that Adam was out of town the entire week, leaving me alone with two children, who have yet to learn how to get me a cup of coffee and who can smell my desperation, using my un-caffeinated weakness to their advantage…
It’s not that I’ve been looking forward to a whiskey sour all week, and when Adam finally gets home (late) tonight, I can’t even have a whiskey sour…
Because I finally got something new. What did I get new? Monia. Put it together, folks. Got it? And it’s not even the kind of pneumonia that I can lie in bed moaning about. It’s “walking” pneumonia. Which means I can carry on everything I’ve been doing, it’s just I’ll do it while continuing to hack up a lung. And at least if I’m not going to get my whiskey sour, at least I get Robitussin with codeine. And I figure in a couple of days, it won’t even be medicine, just recreation.
It’s not that the medicine I’m taking for the said pneumonia is tricky as all get out. It must be taken with food. But not within three hours of any dairy, calcium in general, or iron. Yet I can’t take it right before I go to bed, because I cannot lie down within an hour of taking the medicine.
It’s not that my IT guy left town (again, that’s Adam), just in time for the electronics in my life to go haywire. I’ve been relying on my DVD New Yorker archive to help me with my 1930s novel, only I upgraded my Mac to Lion, which no longer has whatever program it was that ran my New Yorker archive. I tried to put the program on the one PC in the house, but keep running into some kind of database error. And even though all my other family members subscribe to the New Yorker and therefore should have free access to the online archives, not a single freakin’ one of them can figure out how to get into said archives.
It’s not the my son has decided he needs to type his homework, yet the pdf he’s typing on to won’t print out properly and did I mention my IT guy is in Florida drinking fancy drinks–probably whiskey sours–on an expense account?
No, would you like to know what put me over the edge? Someone e-mailed me and asked me if his company could do a guest post on my blog or buy some ad space. For what, you might ask? Is it for the Algonquin Hotel? Is it for Woodford Reserve Bourbon? Is it perhaps for a writing tool, such as Scrivener?
No. It’s for minivans. Yes, people, minivans. Because apparently that’s how exciting my world is.
Cranky, people. Cranky. You might want to keep your distance until the whiskey sours are allowed back in.
