ORIGINAL POST:
Today's events have turned out to be highly unfortunate.
I've mentioned before that John sometimes scares me because he's quiet and I'm not quite sure what he's thinking, and therefore I assume he's judging me even though he's not. Well, in the past week him and I have gotten to be better friends and are slowly starting to be not-as-awkward around one another which is pretty awesome if you ask me.
But today might have ended with a setback to this.
This day kind of ended up being a mix of paint fumes, high heat, pain, severe allergies, poor house cleaning, lack of sleep, and poor nutrition choices... which, let me tell you, is NOT a recipe for delicious OR happy.
Of course there was super-early-morning panic this morning over tornado watches and crazy hail which destroyed stuff (poor Ian's garden is obliterated) which kept me up until 5am, and after only sleeping 3 hours the previous night I found myself doing another 3 hour night before pulling myself groggily out of bed to finish work, which is when I posted about hating the painting. So many people were coming and going from my house today, and I was grumpy and some were my friends so I did the normal thing and closed my bedroom door/pretended to be not present or not conscious so I could bypass interruptions and finish the painting I was so mad at.
Conclusion: I am the world's best friend ever.
This action boxed in fumes from the oil paint, which aren't nearly as bad as, say, latex paint, but it still causes a few tingles in the brain. I felt a little nauseous but not too bad, so I therefore felt when I was done that I could spend some energy on a quick run. Energy from... something. Probably all that sleep I've gotten recently.
So I went for a run in stupid heat.
Explanation: I am a genius.
About halfway into my run, I noticed the sun and nausea was getting to me, but the problems didn't end there. As I turned around and began my premature journey home, I felt a bit of a grinding sensation in my hip and it was suddenly very painful. If you've been here for a bit, you would have read that a year ago I was brutally blindsided by a car while riding my bike to work. This knocked my hip out of place and I've had some problems with it since its realignment, which I assume is today's problem. But the sudden pain caused me to stumble, and my tendinitis-infected knees decided they were NOT happy with the disruption, and so I found myself staggering home, dizzy and in pain in more than one spot.
Everyone probably thought I was drunk.
When I got home I ended up half-conscious lying curled up in my bathtub under the relief of a cold shower for the next half hour, wondering what I was even doing with my life and thinking I'm probably not going to walk again which is obviously not true because I got up 5 minutes later and could walk just fine.
A few other things followed the shower that aren't that interesting. I learned some more songs for my touring band, worked a bit on some research for my novel, sent a couple of grown-up e-mails to clients, did some promotion stuff, and found myself in the evening. And exhausted. And determined to continue to write because hell, day's still young and I'm on a roll.
53rd mistake of the day:
I brewed some coffee, which is the best thing to drink when you're feeling sick. Also it's hot out, so I poured all the coffee in a big mixing bowl with a lot of milk and stuck it in my fridge to make iced coffee. Which I fail to remember, every time, I find super delicious and don't notice how much I'm drinking.
So I drank a whole pot of iced coffee. I usually have... one or two cups of coffee a day. Like mugs. This was a full pot, probably the equivalent of 6 or 7 mugs of coffee.
I went from feeling "eh" to feeling like my stomach had started a new hobby that involves some obscure form of martial arts. And you bet I was shaking with fake caffeinated energy.
But despite that, I still had work to do so I kept going. Eventually, as one does, I got thirsty and wandered from my room for water where I was greeted by John who had just discovered the few fruit flies wandering our kitchen and had made to get down to the bottom of it. Turns out the pad we had under the dish drying rack had molded. Badly.
GUESS WHO'S DEATHLY ALLERGIC TO MOLD!
=D
He told me he had a funny story to tell me, and then forgetting my deathly allergy chucked the cloth at me. I caught it (read: it hit me in the face and I flailed/managed to somehow transfer it from face to hand without dropping it), saw the mold, screamed and threw it away and right away almost went into anaphylactic shock (by that I mean labored breathing/sweating/eyes tearing up/racing heart/increased nausea) and while John was laughing at me for "being a girl about the mold" (he actually completely forgot about my allergy and thought I was hyperventilating because it was gross, he wasn't ACTUALLY being mean) I had a slight panic attack because I have been hospitalized from the allergy before (only once though) and John suddenly realized maybe I wasn't okay. (I just used parenthesis four times in one sentence. Structure genius.) <-- grammatically awful. I'm sorry, Parenthesis Gods...
Anyways.
He came over to talk to me and ask if I was alright and I promptly puked on the floor. Around his feet.
...
Suddenly I felt a lot better and it wasn't too violent of a reaction. I left the house after shakily cleaning up my shameful mess and the fresh air cleared my other symptoms. John seemed pretty good-natured about it all which I guess is logical because he did throw something equivalent to a murder weapon at me (albeit by accident) but I still feel awful and hope I never revisit it again. That being said, everyone now knows I'm not f*cking around about that allergy. Here they thought it was just my excuse to not clean toilets/make sure everyone else keeps the toilets super clean.
So yeah. There's my day. It was pretty cool.
Also, I promised you a sharpie unicorn picture days ago and drew one but never uploaded. Here it is! Sorry I never scanned it. It's a picture of the picture =(
I'm a professional! =D
Also, when I went to upload this picture the Recaptcha asshole program made me type this:
Evil little dink.
On a completely unrelated note, I realized today that I obsessively keep an eye on the "stats" of this blog and haven't kept an eye on the ones of my for-real, not-anonymous blogs. So I decided to look today. I have two, one for horse training help (oh yeah. Probably haven't mentioned that I've trained horses professionally. SURPRISE. You might think I'm being loose with the term "professional" [artist/musician/horse trainer] I'm not. I've just spent lots of time getting proficient at lots of things) and one for my artwork. Apparently I'm way more popular than I thought because I have 90 000 views on the training blog and 35 000 on the art blog, and they're both only a couple years old. I feel like a champion.
No comments:
Post a Comment