Good things happen to me. They really do. I know after the last few posts I've written you're probably thinking that if you ever met me there would be a grey cloud over my head and showers just on me when the rest of the world was sunny. But, really, my life is quite happy.
THAT being said, today my alarm was to go off at 6:30am. I am SO not a morning person. SO not. I would stay up until 2 am and sleep until 9 am most days if I could. Unfortunately, the world doesn't work that way. I could get away with it some because my office is/was in my house, so I could flex my hours. But, if a customer wants to see me at 8 am, I've got to be there. And today they chose 9am. (for those of you saying "HA! Just wait 'till the baby comes, you won't sleep late! You won't even know what sleeping late IS!" ...I know, I know. I'm trying to enjoy it while I can).
Anyway, today for some silly reason I woke up at 5:30 am WIDE AWAKE. I was very irritated. I didn't go to bed until midnight. It just didn't seem right. I refused to get up. I laid there until 6:30 when the alarm went off, and then I got up. When my husband is grumpy I call him "Mr. Grumpy". This morning I was "Ms. Grumpy". So, Ms. Grumpy got up and realized she is out of both cereal AND bagels AND juice in her apartment. They have been the pregnancy staples for me in the morning. But, since I haven't darkened the doorsteps of the apartment for the last 5 days, I forgot and didn't go to the store. I had to have SOMETHING. I live like a bachelor here. I had no food. The milk was curdled. When you open the pantry there is a lonely little mouse eating the last crumb. I DID have a chocolate chip cookiethat I fought the mouse for. It was good, actually.
Then Ms. Grumpy went to clean out her company van becuase she has to turn it in on Friday and she had to get it repaired before that. So, she parked the thing next to the apartment dumpster. She opened the side door and started to clean it out. She put the icky stuff (How the hell did my van get that dirty?) in a little paper bag and stuffed the bag so full it tore and the crap went all over the ground. Ms. Grumpy looked down and realized that not only did the garbage fall on top of a huge mound of fire ants but that she was also stepping in the fire ant pile. I think at that point the ants realized I knew what was up, and I SWEAR I heard a tiny, itty bitty, munchkin voice say "OK, boys! One, two, three...BITE HER!" Because suddenly the hundreds of ants that had quietly climbed inside my pant leg to my knees collectively started biting. If you don't have fire ants where you live, consider yourself lucky.
I danced, and jumped and swatted. And pulled up my pant leg to wipe them away. I hope no one was watching outside their apartment window. Although, I am sure if any Native American was watching this they would want to know the steps for their next rain dance. Or perhaps a pop coreographer. I did acrobatic acts I didn't know I was capable of doing.
I picked up most of the garbage, but I'm ashamed to admit I left a couple of pieces there, hoping the guy with the long thingie that picks up trash was soon to follow. I hate litterers, but my fingers had several welts and my legs were swollen so bad I was looking like Violet from Charlie (Willy Wonka) and the Chocolate Factory who ate the gum and blew up like a blueberry. This is what my leg looked like (no, this is not MY LEG. But the welts are the same):
How the hell do you get pictures off the web here? I am so unqualified to be a blogger. Oh, forget it. Just go here.
I'm glad to say the rest of the day wasn't quite so bad.
Question: When you fall or trip (or dance because you are bitten by fire ants) do you look around to see if anyone saw you?