I’m tired. I’m so tired I’m walking around all hunched over and saying (in one of those old man/Hepburn voices) “Oh, my bones! My aching bones!” It’s very satisfying to do that.
We’ve just had the kind of two weeks where you go…uh…what the hell were we thinking?
Last weekend was mushroom hunting with my crazy-wonderful family. (see previous post)
I narrated all day on Monday, and then that night, Kealoha proposed and we had a few days of endorphin highs as we responded to lots of well wishes.
Tuesday my classes started and I had to remember how to teach a 3 ½ hour long class, and figure out how to teach two in a row without going brain dead and/or spontaneously combusting.
Wednesday, Kealoha and I took my son in for another shot of allergy testing. Get it? Another ‘shot’ at allergy testing. Oh, the puns. Anyway, we were just guessing what he was allergic to before since he only made it through half the testing, but this time, he made it through 14 scratches on his back and 24 shots in his arm. The only way we could get him to do it was heartbreaking and funny. He sat in Kealoha’s lap, one nurse held his arms, one nurse have him shots, I coached him, and we all said “Crap crap crap crap crap.” The only time I’ve let him ‘swear’. The stream of craps evolved to crappycrappycrappy pooppooppoop and then I threw in a chicken butt. My son looked at me and said “What?” and then we returned to the crap chanting. All five of us. Even the nurses. I think we all cried a little too. We now know that Louis is allergic to cats, dogs, mold, trees, grass, dust and possibly goat (but we didn’t test for goat).
Wednesday night and Thursday brought stressful conversations with my ex as he yelled at me for not immediately ‘getting rid of’ my three cats. I said that the doctors didn’t say we had to and they suggested our son get allergy shots to build up his resistance to, well, AIR. We’re still talking. I’m taking my daughter to the allergist in two weeks and I’m doing more research on this.
Thursday and Friday brought more narrating and driving an hour to Grand Haven and just being exhausted and bloated and not able to exercise. Thursday evening and Friday evening, we prepared for the Rapturous Garage Sale.
Saturday: Rapturous Garage Sale and hence why I’m so tired. (I’ll blog about this one separately.)
Sunday, I took care of kiddos, we cleaned the house, I prepped for 7 hours of teaching on Tuesday, read through the next audiobook script, finally got a workout in, made shrimp with lemon risotto, and fell asleep watching “The Tourist”. I’m not sure if that says something about how tired I was or the movie itself.
Oh, yeah. And I gave up wheat last week.
Yeah. One crazy week. This week will be about as intense. Kealoha and I are checking out a wedding venue, I’m teaching and narrating…blah blah blah. I see the light though. It’s in two weeks when I’m done narrating, and in five weeks when I get an actual vacation from everything. I am counting the minutes.
Okay. I’m not really counting the minutes because I’m too brain-fried for math. But I am counting the days. Sort of. It’s something like 42.
It just dawned on me what “42” is. Dammit if Douglas Adams wasn’t right. It IS the answer to everything!