Party 'til 3am

I look like hell today, and I feel worse. My head hurts and everything seems a little skewed. Party time? Hardly--unless "poopfests" count as parties.

Oliver must have eaten something he shouldn't have (a category which encompassses everything, except canned food for dogs with IBD, mixed with pumpkin.) It rips my heart out to see him in distress. He strains and strains and just little stinky drops (often mixed with blood) come out his rear end. That went on--out on the patio, on the tile floor (and a few times on the carpet) until 3 a.m. Every time he had an attack of messy spasms, I cleaned him up with baby wipes. When he seemed to get enough respite to get some sleep, I rolled up the rugs in the Master Bathroom, put a dog bed and a water dish in with him, and enclosed all with a baby gate. I got the inside floors cleaned up, put all affected items in the wash with detergent and Pinesol, and passed out on my bed.

There is a public service commercial on TV about disasters called "World Upside Down" that shows a family floating as though weightless, with all their belongings floating around them. The point is that when disaster occurs, everything familiar changes, and you get very disoriented. Apparently, a disaster is not required for me to feel that disoriented; just worry and lack of sleep (which lots of people are experiencing these days--no wonder we're all so bemused.)

So, when the doorbell rang and the mail woman handed me the Priority Shipping boxes I ordered at Thanksgiving for my Christmas packages , I'm afraid I slipped into near-hysterical laughter. I didn't even try to explain. I just thanked her.

Then the nice young man from the furniture store came to exchange the dinette set chair that wobbled. He brought in the new one and set it on the floor. I grasped the back, wiggled it--and it wobbled. I didn't even have the energy for hysterical laughter. I just threw up my hands and told him it was better than the other one and I'd keep it. (I'd learned they don't wobble at all with round, middle-aged people sitting in them. Yes! Another advantage of boomerdom!)

I'd like to go back to bed, preferably before someone else comes to the door. But I have this patio to clean up...