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This week

was rather stressful, and instead of detailing it factually here, I’m just going to make it sort of factual and sort of fiction. ‘Cause, you know, it’s how I deal with stress and stuff.

 

Ah-hem!

 

Tuesday evening came along visciously with intense stupidity and stress from all around. First, a bunch of coworkers pissed me off. Then I had to have some chocolate. Then I remembered that I don’t have opposable thumbs, because I’m a cat, so insead I just sat in the backroom yowling for sweet, delicious chocolate…or death…whichever came first. And while I sat there yowling, swishing my tail, and pretending to shoot people on the security camera screen (“Pew, pew, pew! Die, stupid assholes!”), a text message came in from Boyfriend.

 

“I love you.”

“Awe! I love you, too. How’s your tummy feeling?”

“Much better.”

“Yay!”

“I threw up.”

” 😦 “

“There was blood in it.”

 

OH, HOLY SHIT! HE HAS THE Z VIRUS!

 

Out of nowhere, I evolved opposable thumbs so I could immediately call him and find out what the hell was going on. And we talked. And he assured me he was ok, though if things got worse, he’d take himself to the hospital…but in the meantime he was going dancing–“Please don’t be mad at me, Kari.”

 

I wasn’t mad.

 

I was concerned.

 

A lot.

 

He didn’t need to go to the hospital. I’ll spare you the suspense. He went dancing, danced, went home feeling shitty, and saw the doctor shortly thereafter. And, according to the doctor, he’ll be fine. This news was pleasing to me.

 

HOWEVER!

 

While I was twiddling my thumbs late into the night and being the nervous/anxious wreck I so often become, more bad things were happening. I’m pretty sure this is exactly how it went, though I can neither confirm nor deny the finite details:

 

Goons: “Try the latch. Do you see anyone in there?”

Bear: “Humph! What the fuck?!” (he was all startled from his hibernation, too)

“Muffle, muffle, XBox, muffle….”

“Bear needs knife! Must hide!”

 

And then Bear laid in the shadows of his room with a hunting knife drawn whilst the goons did their gooney stuff outside his window at our front door. And Dup, the WATCHDOG, continued to lay on my bed snoring while I fiddled with my phone, completely oblivous to Bear’s peril.

 

The thugs didn’t break in, and I’d like to think it’s because they could smell that there was a Bear lurking in the shadows. Or maybe because they’d scoped the joint out previously, and upon weighing the pros and cons of breaking into a home containing a big dog, they decided it wasn’t worth it. Either way, they didn’t enter the apartment, and that’s the important part here.

 

Bear told me about his night the next morning on the phone while we were both at work. And I told him about Boyfriend’s bloody vomit, which then made him need to suddenly get off the phone (possibly to go vomit). And then I went into the backroom, because I needed chocolate. And then I remembered that I don’t have opposable thumbs due to my stupid feline nature, and then I had a panick attack. Fucking. Cat. Toes.

 

So Boyfriend skipped dancing and came over that night so I’d stop panicking. And somehow my mother ended up here, too. And Duppy promised she’d be extremely dilligent in her patrolling that night, though she started to snore while she was making that promise, so I was kind of skeptical. But it was ok, because I’d had a lot of cheese and fruit for dinner, and being faux-French pleases me.

 

And then other stuff happened (stressful work environment, shadey shit pulled by a coworker, etc.), and here we are on the cusp of Friday. For this, I am extremely grateful.

 

I just have to make it through tomorrow, and then I’ll have the weekend off. And tomorrow the jeweler will bring my back my rings and pendant he was working on, and I’ll have my precious sparklies again. And it’s date night. And date night will lead into Saturday and my writer’s group in the Man-Cave. And then there’s the opera on Sunday, because, you know, Boyfriend and I are couth…contrary to popular belief.

 

But, yeah, blood-vomiting boyfriends and attempted home invasions are no bueno. In case you didn’t already realize this.

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Categories: Uncategorized
  1. Lauren Scheier
    March 30, 2012 at 8:58 am

    Damn your lack of opposable thumbs! If you only had them you would have surely taken over the world by now. 😉

    Ooh, the opera! What are you going to see? Have fun you guys! 😀

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