Well, it’s Friday and the chaos of the past few weeks has yet to subside. Suffice to say I have a long road ahead of recovery and am not very pleased about it. Aside from the complications that have occurred with the dastardly Pinched Nerve From Hell, no sleep beyond a few hours at a time for a month, and on and on, as I have been writing the pissy-hissy groanings since the inception, stresses are now building at home; an out-of-town guest is arriving tomorrow for 5 days; last-minute home repairs and a back-up cleaning lady or three are currently swirling throughout the house. And to add to my already freaked-out perception of rapid aging, for the 5th time in two weeks I’ve been called the Mother of the friend who has been assisting me throughout this hell, although I am a year younger. Ouch!!!!
May I scream now? Have a gigantic meltdown and get it out of my system? I think it’s time for me to stop being the patient patient and just start throwing things against any wall in view so as not to add getting an ulcer to the growing list of side effects…which, I have to mention, is not out of the question based on a little chat my stomach had with me this morning.
Perhaps we can view this latest rant as my experience living in the opposite spirit of GOOP, the newsletter of Gywennie Paltrow's exalted existence. Rather than tell you all how to live among such obstacles with grace and agility, I’ll simply be honest about having a cleaning woman/crew and tell you how many basic things required the new people to clean whatever it was twice. In addition, there’s nothing as smooth and sane as having a handyman working around the house at the same time a cleaning crew of 3 are wildly dusting, mopping and so on within a tight specified time frame…Thank Gawd! They need to leave soon to make room for oxygen, it’s become so crowded and stifling.
Like GOOP, I could suggest healthy carrot sticks and a Vegan something-or-other as a decent menu for today, but nah! I’m not eating. I feel nauseated. My stomach’s hurting. I don’t need food, I need Prilosec.
In fact, the way things are going, I need a new life.
On that note, I bid you all a fond weekend – whatever you choose to do. (Is there such a thing as having a "fond" weekend? Back to the Thesaurus go I.)
Maybe you should say "The hell with it all," and come back to Ohio?? :) John
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