Sunday Mop Up 11/19/06

Thanksgiving Plans (end of Act II)

So, I jump up this morning at 8 am to race to work. You see, it is vitally important to my plans that I be in front of a computer with a printer at exactly 8:30am because I don't have a printer here at the house and I must print out my boarding pass for my airplane ticket exactly 24 hours before the departure time of my flight. My flight departs at 8:30 am Monday. I need to be one of the first, so that I get the all important "A" designation on it, which will allow me to be in the first group to board, so I can get a seat next to no one right off the bat. I explained all this earlier. Point is, I didn't wake up til 8am, needed to be at the pc at work at 8:30, and I was flying around the house like a bat out of Hell.

I had to poop, and that slowed me down a bit as well.

Now, I only live about 10 minutes from work, and I found myself not quite halfway there at 8:25. I got a little leadfooted and drove more aggressively than normally. No, I didn't get a speeding ticket, thank you. I did see a motorcycle cop, and scolded myself for doing something stupid which, if I got busted, would make me even later.

I got to work and sat at my desk at 8:35am. Some traffic lights fucked with me. I'm logging onto my pc, digging out my paperwork with my reservation confirmation code printed on it, and swiveling around to my printer when I noticed there was no paper in it.

[What's the deal with computer printers, anyway? I find only being able to load about 100 sheets of paper a time into mine a complete pain in the ass. Why can't they make printers that will let you dump a ream of paper into them at once? Is that, like, too fucking hard to do? I've got a fancy copier/fax/scanner/Easy Bake Oven model 'cuz I pump out a TON of paperwork as part of my job, but I have to load that bitch a little dollop at a time. Irritating. Sorry, I'm just saying...]

I swiveled around behind me, where I have a couple of reams stashed, grabbed a handful and swiveled back to the printer. It was during this motion that I felt my back hitch.

Back at the keyboard, I log into Southwest.com, enter my code and my name and...voila!... Boarding Pass is printing out. Big Ass letter "A" right in the middle. Heavy sigh of relief. I head back home to begin the packing process. MUCH to do to get ready.

Getting out of my truck when I get home, I notice something. My back has seized up on me. A tightness along with some searing pain hit me when I open the truck door and unload my ass from the driver's seat. When I'm standing beside the truck, closing the door to the vehicle, I'm bent at a 45 degree angle. I can't straighten up.

Oh, fuck, NO!

As a fat guy, my back can be counted on to go out on me every couple of years. Once every two or three years, there's a disc that says "Everything else on you bulges. Me, too, moron!" and complicates my life for about two weeks. This is what this is. I immediately panic because I have mucho laundry to do, a trip back to the clothes store, and a stop at the Post Office to put in a request to have my mail saved for me. And, of course, I need to blog.

I toddle into the house, creep up the stairs, and head for the bed. I have a heating pad stashed in the nightstand for just such an emergency, plug that thing in and arrange myself over it. Just a half hour, I tell myself. Maybe this will help loosen me up. That was just before 10 am.

It's now 2:30pm. I awoke with a jolt, swearing like a sailor that I had passed out for so long, but pleased that my back felt really pretty good. Then, I sat up. It was like someone was sticking a knife into my kidney.

I've swallowed a handful of Advil (well, three) and am hoping that might help. Jimmy's Fun Fact Of The Day: I if you clutch a handful of Advil in your hand for long enough (because you're looking for a glass to pour some water into), the red dye bleeds off those little fuckers. I now have red paw marks all over my white bathroom sink where I was trying to steady my crippled ass with one hand while I chugged the pills down.

I need to be in bed and ASLEEP by 9pm, if I expect to be up by 6am. There's a spoiled brat inside of me that wants to call the whole trip off and just get into bed and sleep for a week. I can't do that and I know it. I do, however, worry about what a plane ride, cramped into a shitty seat in the back of a cattlecar for 5 hours, is going to do to me. Fuck!

[Late Edition Addition: It's 11pm, and I'm finally packed. I'm dosed up heavy on the Advil, so I'm pretty sure my liver is petrifying in my abdomen at this very instant. I called my sister and whined like a baby, and that made me feel better, somewhat. I got the bright idea to maybe buy a digital camera for myself when I get out there, so I might have pics to post at some point. You'll love my family. Not a retarded one in the lot, besides me, acourse.}

One last little note:

The TomKat Wedding

Jesus Christ! Shut the fuck UP already! I don't CARE! I don't understand why ANYBODY cares. The shit we focus on and obsess over, as a culture, infuriates me! I don't care what she wore, I don't care what he wore, I don't care who was there, I don't care how many candles were lit, I don't care how many italian women peed their pants, I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!










I hope they are happy, but I felt the same way about Ellen DeGeneres and Anne Heche and look how THAT turned out.