Screw the Luck of the Irish, I Need some Voodoo!

I know it’s St Patricks’s Day and maybe my problem is that I didn’t wear green, but yesterday  SUCKED. I’ve had no luck of the Irish the past few days at all.

1. I’m sick.  A sinus and ear infection that are still here after antibiotics strong enough to cause tendon damage and sterility.  I’ve been up all night for 4 nights due to steroids. Enough said.

2. My kids finally went back to school. Between snow days and Spring Break they have gone 2 days in 2 weeks. Getting them up  before 6 am was hell on earth. I think one of them bit me. During the afternoon and evening they were about as pleasant as a cage of boa constrictors.

3. In my city there has been a spread of Norovirus. You know the vomit/diarrhea combo that they get on the cruise ships?  Well it’s everywhere.  Especially hospitals.  I am scared to death of that stuff because I hate vomit more than almost anything.  I was hoping the snow days would kill it since people were staying home. Then Spring Break. But no.  I’ve been dragging my poor sick ass out to see patients, in guess where? Hospitals. I walk in and start asking, “Y’all have anybody with that virus?”. No?  All good. On two separate occasions over the last 4 days I’ve been deceived. Yesterday, I was walking in the hall and heard the unmistakeable sound of vomit. I hit the bathroom and scoured my hands, grabbed a bleach wipe off the cart and scoured my work iPad, phone and keys, they couldn’t see me leaving for the dust.  I’m just waiting. They are asking sick people to stay home because you are contagious 3-5 days after you quit vomiting and of course no one does that. So it spreads and spreads.

4. Al. Haven’t seen him in 2 weeks and have 2 to go.  His birthday was Saturday. I miss him. I get squirrely when I miss him. Yesterday I noticed in his FB Happy Birthday messages that some woman  told him he was looking good. He responded, “You are the one looking good, in every photo you appear ageless!”  Grrr. Flirting with another woman on FB.  I sent him a text and said, “if some man was leaving messages to me on FB about how good I look and how ageless I appeared, you would be in a snit! Just sayin!”  I got back, “Good grief!  She’s my aunt! She’s a grandmother!”  I’ m all like, “Sorry she didn’t look old!”  So that’s going well.

5. The Boy’s algebra homework almost put us over the edge last night.  He doesn’t really understand how I don’t understand it. Well I don’t. And I have a master’s degree and I’ve never used algebra once to my knowledge. He looks at me like I’m a complete failure because I can’t remember this.  For real. So I tried, then I tried math resources online, then I called my daddy and then the kid gave up on me and called his daddy. They talked for over an hour.   It’s only half done. There was yelling and it was ugly.

But the ugliest is yet to come, hence no luck of the Irish. 

6. At 9pm I hustle the girls to bed and the Boy informs me that the dog has poop on her butt. She had already vomited earlier on my rug (I forgot to tell y’all that little tidbit), so yep, dog is sick. I chase her down and hold the squirming, 15 lb beast away from my clothes and start wiping and wiping, wondering if dogs can get Norovirus.  Then I am pulling some sort of string out of her ass.

I start gagging which makes The Boy laugh from his mound of books.

It was awful. It just kept coming.

There are some things you can never UNSEE. 

I have no idea what she ate. Yuck. 

So I basically had to bathe her at that point. I drug my weary sick self upstairs and stripped my clothes. 

I’m considering burning them. 

I put on pjs  and went in to kiss the girls goodnight.

Merlot showed me her ‘worry doll’ that she had gotten in New Orleans at a voodoo shop. She said she had told it her worries and was putting it under her pillow to make her worries go away. She offered it to me for the night since the Irish must hate me.

I have no idea if it will ever make me forget the string.