I woke up yesterday feeling sick, spent the day feeling sick, had horrific nightmares about space zombies all night, and here I am again, still sick. My theory is I picked up something on the plane; at least I wasn't ill away from home with all that driving.
Feeling like crap, I dragged myself into the bathroom at one point to find Tux (a rescue cat given to us for socialization who seems to be becoming a permanent fixture here) and Al (the orange skeleton who is allergic to his own teeth) there. Princess Henry (the Christmas present cat) followed me in. All three cats, still in that honeymoon glow of being happy to see me home, rubbed up against me, purred, and sought attention while I attended to my needs. This bathroom is a small bathroom, and it was crowded in there with all those happy cats. I called the Sober Husband as I washed my hands around Al and Henry. "Come here! Come here!"
He came slowly, probably dreading some invalid request.
"I'm having a crazy cat lady moment," I said. "I feel like a crazy cat lady."
The cats were swarming and purring. "I see what you mean," the Sober Husband said thoughtfully. "They seem like a lot in there."
Thankfully as I dragged myself back into the bedroom, the feeling dissipated. My bedroom is a very large and airy room, which could hold a lot more cats if need be.
I feel your pain. Whenever I go into the bathroom, I have to shoo a cat out of the toilet. It's their preferred watering hole.
Considering your proximity to space during your trans-continental flight, it's possible that you've picked up actual space aliens and your dreams are their diabolical attempts to occupy your body.
The weather has continued to be wet here, though I imagine that's small consolation. I'm glad your daughters had a good rural time with things Maine.
Given you recent health history, it may have your relative proximity to Jim. Just sayin'
Oy, Captain, you gotta leave the lid down! Al favors the sink edge; we call him the Bathroom Cat. He's so happy when anyone goes in there, but Lucy insists upon banning him when she wants to brush her teeth.
Jim, they are sooo ready to move to rural Maine. They have no idea what a true winter is like, though. I have taken them to Tahoe to see snow, and they always whine when they have to leave the hotel to be in the self same snow they vigorously begged to be taken to. I'm so sorry we weren't able to connect on this trip (I also failed to connect with some college friends I was dying to see, sigh, but did get to see one friend from jr. high/high school and my favorite college roommate as well as my aunts & uncles).
Silliyak, are you accusing Jim of being a zombie from outer space? He did manage to complete a charity run, which is pretty hard to do with a zombie shamble.
I'm just sayin' he came to SF, you got sick. You went to Maine, you got sick.
On another note, Lily's love of toilet water has finally trained me to close the toilet lid. She also likes to drink out of the bathroom faucet if we let it drip.
For some reason, MC Stormy has decided that anytime I go into the bathroom for any reason - especially when I take a bath - it is her cue to come in and take a large and smelly dump. Maybe it's because I'm her mommy, and she is modeling my behavior?
Technically speaking I was in the peak of health while in New England; it was the day after I got back that I got ill.
I never have an issue with toilets being open ever after I read that when you flush a toilet, a cloud of bacteria spews forth with a radius of up to six feet (and most people keep their toothbrushes within 6 ft of a toilet). I have trained the SH and children to always close the lid of a toilet BEFORE flushing. Of course, every guest here leaves the lid open to flush, sigh.
I try to not let technicalities get in the way of a nice sounding idea, much like our fearless leaders. I would also point out Jim's flimsy attempt at shifting the blame. (although aliens are always a good target, maybe we need to build a space wall)
Our SonicCare brushes come with little plastic covers prsumably to protect them from aerosoled fecal matter.
BTW I'm having cravings for a psychontractor update.
s: I didn't say the space aliens were the cause of the sickness--merely the root of her strange dreams.
i blame space aliens for everything. fly in the room? SAs. bad rerun on TV? SAs. weird dream? SAs. you name it. they're definately the cause of all the world's problems.
Hmmm, S.& A. are my initials. Coincidence or conspiracy? I was there also when DH was ill the first time, do I have an alibi for the second occurance?
I'll take ALL amendments that are still available for use.
Silly man, everyone knows your initials are SY, for Silli Yak.
Incidentally I have some alien-themed anecdotes about aliens I should write out sometime.
As for the psycho contractor: our ways may have parted. I hope never to cross his path again (although it has occurred to me that it would be a hoot to find where he lives and put pylons in the street there, perhaps with rotten eggs under them). Never fear, though, readers: another house very near to mine recently sold, and it has a building (carriage house) in tear-down shape AND the main house needs major remodeling. I'm just bracing myself for another major construction project right by my home.
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