Like Sands through the Hour Glass
I am an addict. I admit it. My addiction started when I was on maternity leave. It just became so easy. What else was I supposed to do? Sitting for hours with a newborn on a tit. Being an unsure new mother, I did not know how to cope otherwise. I did not yet have the skills to be able to breastfeed, do laundry, eat, and answer the phone all the while having baby attached to boob. So I sat in front of the television just like most new moms. I know better now, I now have mommy powers that enable me to do anything and everything with only one hand. See it isn't my fault. The writers of Days of Our Lives knew what they were doing. All I wanted to know was who the serial killer was. After three full months of maternity leave I was no closer to finding the answer, I had no choice. I HAD to TiVo Days of Our Lives. I had to know who the killer was. But that wasn't the end... Once I knew that Marlena was behind all the killings, I had to see her get caught. It is not my fault she hasn't been caught. I have been watching Days for SEVEN months. I am an addict. I admit it.
What is that smell?
I have spent the last 3.5 hours wandering around my bedroom trying to figure out what the hell it is that I smell. Now what you must realize is that I have a wicked cold, and I am completely stuffed up. I haven't tasted a thing I have eaten all day, but I know that there is a smell. But let me digress...
This all started with Finn having a cold. Now we all know that daycares basically shoot you at the door if you even look as though you may bring a sick kid in, so sick kid stays home. My lovely husband being out of town, all sick leave, and potential sick leave for the rest of my natural life used up, brings Finn's wonderful loving Grandma and Grandpa to babysitting rescue. With said Grandparents come two dogs. Now Grandma, Grandpa, and dogs all stay in the Bonus Room, which is Tuna Fish, the cat's bedroom (mental cat that needed anti-crazy cat pills when we brought home dog = private luxury bedroom with litter box, food, water). Because Tuna is afraid of all things on earth, he has been hiding in our bedroom closet. But has he ever had a chance to get out and go to the litter box? This now leads to my fear of the "smell"...
So my biggest fear is that there is cat piss and or shit all over my closet, room, bed, or carpet. Grandpa can smell "something funny", Grandma can't smell a thing. This is after the tenth time I have asked them to come into my room and sniff. I have no true sense of smell, but I know that there is some sort of lingering odor. This frightens me to no end, I must take drastic measures. Phone call to Janet...
Me "I need you to come over to my house and smell my bedroom"
Janet "Hu?"
Me (Explain full scenario)
Janet "Have you checked under the bed?"
Me "Yes"
Janet "Closet?"
Me "Yes"
Janet "Is it gas, or electrical smell?"
Me "I don't think so"
Janet "You want me to come over?" (Said in soft-oh-god-no tone)
Me "No... that's OK... I will live, see you tomorrow"
Me (Thinking, no I will not live, yes you must come over 8:30 at night, 25 minutes away and smell my room)
Obsessed, positive there is a "smell". I have crawled from one end of the room to the other. Nose stuffed, delirious from the cold medicine I have taken, screaming child I have placed in Grandma's arms. Must find smell. What's this... could it be? The dog bed? Does it smell funny? "Dad smell this!!!" Hoover has been laying on her bed licking her crotch for about an hour, and what we have to show for it is a dog bed full of piss, her psychotic drugged up owner forcing anyone and everyone to "smell this". Now I write this post, stuffed up groggy, tired head. I knew that something smelled.
Nap
I am not one for nap taking, never have been. I refused to take naps as a child, and have taken less than a handful since. So if I actively seek out a nap, there must be a cosmic reason, planets in perfect alignment, the moon in the correct phase. Whatever the reason, I am in bad shape and the least the world could do for me is allow this one little nap. However there are just a few things that could stand in the way-
Deciding that the best form of communication between you and your friends is honking the horn of your cars... over and over again... right outside of my window.
When the honking no longer works, proceed to scream at the top of you lungs... over and over again... right outside of my window.
Let your dog out to bark at the sky... over and over again... right outside of my window.
Riding your bicycles up to my door, wearing your stupid white shirts, with your stupid backpacks, ringing my doorbell hoping to spread the word of your lord.
Deciding to do yard work. Not weeding mind you, but things that apparently require gas powered equipment that takes 20 minutes to start and at least that much to run... RIGHT OUTSIDE OF MY WINDOW!