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I wish someone would tell me WTF I did to provoke what happened today. It isn't even a full moon. If you read my journal this morning (I guess it's now yesterday morning, though since I haven't been to bed yet it still feels like this morning), you realize that my day did not get off to a good start, to say the least.
My day at the office was hectic. I got all of 20 minutes to have lunch, and finally was finished with patient care and paperwork at 6:45. That was when I finally opened LiveJournal and saw the responses to my morning post. I'm now hunting for "Dog Whisperer" DVDs. With luck, I'll find them online for less than an arm and a leg. I finally left the office an hour later, and headed for home, firm in my conviction that I was going to be civil, pleasant, but stand my ground if my husband brought up issues around the puppy. With God as my witness, he will watch those videos, if I have to chain him to the bloody couch.
Allow me to digress for a moment. I have a couple of health issues; sleep apnea for one. I wear a CPAP to bed. It doesn't pay for me to lie down if I don't have it available. I'll awaken within moments. I also have chronic edema in my left hand and forearm, courtesy of a bout of erysipelas I suffered 10 years ago, which destroyed my lymphatics and left me with chronic edema in my forearm. I'm very lucky to still have my left arm (no small favor for a southpaw like myself), but because of the edema that's always there, I'm prone to recurrent infections. One of them hospitalized me last May. Routinely, I apply antiseptics to any injury damaging the skin on that arm or hand, and often chase it with an antibiotic orally, just to be on the safe side.
The dogs were on the deck waiting to greet me when I walked through the front gate. I petted each of them on the head, and then decided to reach for a can of diet Dr. Pepper, in an open 12-pack next to the patio door. That was when Arjuna decided to jump up to greet me, nailing me directly on the back of my hand with his dewclaw. I was of course, reaching with my left and that's exactly where he got me, drawing blood and leaving me with a small gash on the back of my hand. Not a good thing, particularly after this morning's screaming match argument heated conversation. I managed to maintain my composure, went inside, handed my husband his Chinese food, and headed to the bathroom in search of rubbing alcohol and some gauze. I applied pressure to the back of my hand while watching the first half of Keith Olbermann. Then I finally went to the kitchen to fetch the leftover half sandwich that was last night's dinner.
Olbermann segued into Rachel Maddow, and given I was in no mood to head off to bed, I continued to watch. At 12:30 I was finally ready for sleep, so I brushed my teeth, plucked out my contacts, and got undressed. While standing at the foot of my bed, buck naked and just about to slide between the sheets, I heard the unfortunately familiar sound of a transformer exploding, somewhere off in the distance. With that, the room went dark.
Thinking I was prepared, having just re-charged my battery pack two weeks ago, a battery pack I purchased last year, so I would have use of my CPAP should there be a power outage, I grabbed a flashlight and went to the shelf to fetch my battery. When I opened the case, the cord that attaches the battery to the CPAP was nowhere to be found. It was there two weeks ago when I opened the battery pack to charge it (in the outlet on the floor, on my side of the bed), but tonight it was gone. Zip. Zilch. Nada. I have strong suspicion a certain canine is the culprit responsible for a cord theft, but that knowledge does me no good tonight.
I packed up my CPAP, a change of clothes, got dressed and headed down to my car. First, I drove over to Dan's place, hoping that a) he had power and b) was still up. There were no lights anywhere near his place, not from any of the homes, and any of the streetlights, so awake or not, I chose not to bother him. Jan's place was next. No power there either. With that, I started driving to my office in Santa Rosa, where I'm now about to sack out on the couch.
You know, there are times I'm absolutely certain I just don't live right.
My day at the office was hectic. I got all of 20 minutes to have lunch, and finally was finished with patient care and paperwork at 6:45. That was when I finally opened LiveJournal and saw the responses to my morning post. I'm now hunting for "Dog Whisperer" DVDs. With luck, I'll find them online for less than an arm and a leg. I finally left the office an hour later, and headed for home, firm in my conviction that I was going to be civil, pleasant, but stand my ground if my husband brought up issues around the puppy. With God as my witness, he will watch those videos, if I have to chain him to the bloody couch.
Allow me to digress for a moment. I have a couple of health issues; sleep apnea for one. I wear a CPAP to bed. It doesn't pay for me to lie down if I don't have it available. I'll awaken within moments. I also have chronic edema in my left hand and forearm, courtesy of a bout of erysipelas I suffered 10 years ago, which destroyed my lymphatics and left me with chronic edema in my forearm. I'm very lucky to still have my left arm (no small favor for a southpaw like myself), but because of the edema that's always there, I'm prone to recurrent infections. One of them hospitalized me last May. Routinely, I apply antiseptics to any injury damaging the skin on that arm or hand, and often chase it with an antibiotic orally, just to be on the safe side.
The dogs were on the deck waiting to greet me when I walked through the front gate. I petted each of them on the head, and then decided to reach for a can of diet Dr. Pepper, in an open 12-pack next to the patio door. That was when Arjuna decided to jump up to greet me, nailing me directly on the back of my hand with his dewclaw. I was of course, reaching with my left and that's exactly where he got me, drawing blood and leaving me with a small gash on the back of my hand. Not a good thing, particularly after this morning's
Olbermann segued into Rachel Maddow, and given I was in no mood to head off to bed, I continued to watch. At 12:30 I was finally ready for sleep, so I brushed my teeth, plucked out my contacts, and got undressed. While standing at the foot of my bed, buck naked and just about to slide between the sheets, I heard the unfortunately familiar sound of a transformer exploding, somewhere off in the distance. With that, the room went dark.
Thinking I was prepared, having just re-charged my battery pack two weeks ago, a battery pack I purchased last year, so I would have use of my CPAP should there be a power outage, I grabbed a flashlight and went to the shelf to fetch my battery. When I opened the case, the cord that attaches the battery to the CPAP was nowhere to be found. It was there two weeks ago when I opened the battery pack to charge it (in the outlet on the floor, on my side of the bed), but tonight it was gone. Zip. Zilch. Nada. I have strong suspicion a certain canine is the culprit responsible for a cord theft, but that knowledge does me no good tonight.
I packed up my CPAP, a change of clothes, got dressed and headed down to my car. First, I drove over to Dan's place, hoping that a) he had power and b) was still up. There were no lights anywhere near his place, not from any of the homes, and any of the streetlights, so awake or not, I chose not to bother him. Jan's place was next. No power there either. With that, I started driving to my office in Santa Rosa, where I'm now about to sack out on the couch.
You know, there are times I'm absolutely certain I just don't live right.
