A Series of Narrow Escapes

1. On both Monday and Tuesday mornings, I awoke to find my pajamas clinging to my body in a cold sweat with nausea coming over me like a wave of AWFUL. On Monday, the nausea passed, and I was able to go on with my day and do magical things like go running with Penelope! And go to TARGET with Penelope! And eat roasted salmon on frisée with goat cheese and drink a pomegranate martini with Penelope! On Tuesday morning, the nausea did not pass, and I woke up just in time enough to vomit into a bucket I had placed by my bed a few hours before. And let me tell you: roasted salmon on frisée with goat cheese and pomegranate martinis DO NOT taste the same coming up. YOU. ARE. WELCOME. I spent the rest of the day trying not to feel dizzy while watching Bridget Jones' Diary and Stage Beauty (my two most recent library rentals; the latter is not recommended). Today, although I'm still feeling a little weak, my fever has passed, and I'm not nearly as queasy as I was yesterday...so what was this? A REALLY short stomach flu? A 48 hour bug? It remains shrouded in mystery, but regardless, I'm crossing my fingers and toes that I'm out of the woods. Because as delightful as it was to hang out with the very loud dogs, eat dry toast, and watch the five thousand special features on the Stage Beauty DVD, I have a horrifying amount of reading and writing to do in the next five days. And, you know, I like being well.

2. Since apparently "vacation time" for Mary Frances means "please go through the two months of paperwork you've been avoiding since January," on Monday morning and today, I found lots of exciting things like OOPS guess which husband's very cranky great aunt we forgot to thank at Christmas? And WOW between the two of us, we have been to a lot of schools. And apparently pledged a lot of money. To the tune of $80. Also, I actually read through the instructions the vet gave us (which they did not tell us were attached to our bill, but YES I KNOW I probably should have looked) when we picked Ness up from the vet last week. Apparently we were supposed to be on the watch for vomiting and diarrhea (both of which she had over the weekend) and we were supposed to be limiting her exercise by walking her on VERY short walks (we walk the dogs between 2.5 and 3 miles a day). OOPS. But she's still alive, so hopefully we're ok.

3. My Mom works for H&R block, and once a year, I climb out of my ivory tower, where I mail her all of my (and now Preston's) tax forms, so that she will do them for me FOR FREE. So this morning I went to Staples, where I made copies of all of my Very Important tax forms (including W-2s with our names, addresses, and social security numbers, and investment/account information with Very Real Account Numbers on them). So I paper-clipped and sticky-noted and stapled all of the originals for my Mom, and went on my merry way to the post office. I had just snagged a prime parking spot when I realized WAIT: I had left all of the copies of said Very Important forms at Staples. Which is basically the equivalent of saying, HELLO! Here is my identity. PLEASE STEAL IT! I immediately backed the car up, sped back to Staples, ran through the store, and found my Very Important forms right where I had left them. And then I breathed again.

4. After I dropped our dry-cleaning off (something which I only remember to do about four times a year, meaning that when I DO remember to go, I take huge amounts of clothing and leave with a bill of $70-$80. I consequently feel poor and vow NEVER AGAIN to spill coffee on my dry-clean only khakis, but then I remember that WHOOPS I'm Mary Frances and that is not possible), I began to back out of my spot into the road when all of a sudden I screeched to a stop because whoa there tiger I was about to hit a man. Who was walking calmly and casually in the middle of the road as if to say, "Sidewalks? PISH." I kept my foot tightly pressed against the brake while he looked at me indignantly like HOW DARE YOU INVADE MY ROAD. And thank god this was a narrow escape, because I cannot afford to pay for hitting a car, much less A PERSON. But seriously, buddy: you were walking in the middle of the road. You're lucky I was enfeebled from the mysterious stomach flu bug and driving like a doped up granny.