Quite a weird and wacky last few days, I must say. And what's weirder is actually starting a sentence with that. Maybe not.
I spent the weekend getting things together for my job interview this morning. Had to put together some references (now, that's a job in itself, actually finding people who would say nice things about me!), polish up my knowledge of all things library, and last, but not least, find my damn job interview clothes. And all this in the midst of what seems to be a stomach bug that's been creating some havoc with my insides (as if they need any help in that respect). It's tough being me.
I ended up in bed for most of Saturday with gut cramps that would down Rocky Balboa for the count and a headache that just would not leave me alone. Needless to say, I didn't get any job interview preparations done that day, or much of anything else, including speaking more than three words to my family, unless you count "Uhhhh," "Ohhhh," and "Meeeeeh", which you probably don't. I did, however, manage to take Dee to his hockey game that day, and I think I deserve a prize for that. Anyone? Especially since the day ended with me pooping my pants. And don't all go "ewwwww" and "GROSS!!", as if YOU'VE never done that before.
Of course, my thoughts then sped to the H1N1 virus that is scaring the poop out of everyone and their neighbour these days, and I began wondering if this was the beginning of it, and possibly the end of me, and only because I am thinking of NOT getting vaccinated, because that's sort of how my life rolls.
The weekend began on Friday, with my mother's birthday. She would have been 83. She passed away back in March of this year, so it was a strange day, and yet, not. You see, I had chosen many years ago to divorce myself from that relationship in an effort to save myself and my children. So, for the past 10 years or so, I really had nothing much to do with her, besides asking about her once in awhile to make sure things were okay with her, because I still cared about her despite all that. Nevertheless, the absence of her this year made the day a sadder one than usual, because in some strange way, I missed her. I guess it's the finality of it all, her death and the fact that I will never see her again, and will now never even have the possibility of having a relationship with her again, however superficial it may have been. I suppose that's why I've been having a harder than expected time dealing with her passing, not that I really knew what to expect when "that day" actually happened. It's just that, when you feel you've done all you can to make amends with someone, and you're doing what you have to do to survive (which, unfortunately, sometimes means severing yourself entirely from that person), you think that it's all in a day when that person finally dies. Well, I'm here to tell you that that's not necessarily so. Not even close.
I woke up relatively early on Sunday and spent a few minutes with Mr. Handsome before he sped off to work for the day. And then I monitored my health situation, because the Clinique sale is on now and I am so in need of 7-Day Facial Scrub and some Black Honey Almost Lipstick, so I had to decide whether I was in good enough shape to actually venture to the mall to pick up my scrub and lipstick, or whether I should just stay home near a functioning toilet. I decided to stay put.
And while we're on the subject, am I the only one who does this, or do others actually wait for the Clinique Bonus Time to stock up on their powders and such? Or am I the cheapest skate in the locker room? Either way, it's like Christmas when they hand over, not only your purchases, but a nicely packaged case chock full of gorgeous make-up and other doodads that make me drool.
And can I just say that I love the 7-day Facial Scrub? I got a sample the last time Clinique had their bonus time, and mislaid it somewhere in the house, or perhaps it was in Kingston, and boy, am I missing it. My face hasn't been the same.
So, that was my weekend, in a nutshell. Exciting? Yes. Very. As you can plainly see, I lead an extremely stressful life, which is probably why I can barely manage to put socks on every morning before stumbling down the stairs to push the kids out the door to school.
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