If I had to sum it up in one word, I suppose that word would be "strange." I am severely sleep deprived and that definitely makes things more surreal. I've managed to stay awake, in no small part to Sarita's serial phone calls about the accidental car key mix-up. I'd come home around 3:00 and lay down (lain, laid?) on the sofa in The D's living room. He had Dr. Oz blaring on his big-ass TV. Why the fuck do I care that Nate Berkus had a laproscopic appendectomy? He is really cute, but he's gay, so that takes all the fun out of it. He and Dr. Oz were just a tad too friendly at the end. I was kind of hoping Dr. O would ask Nate to show him the small scar, though, because I have a feeling there were some washboard abs under that D&G t-shirt. Whoa, where'd that come from??
In addition to being sleep-deprived, I'm also socially deprived. My only human contact, other than The D and Sarita, was in the form of client meetings. Two of them. Neither of which I was ready for. Neither of which seemed to mind. Oh, there's the bank teller who eyed me up and down for making a big-ass deposit. She probably thought it was incongruous with my thrift store outfit. But hell, I was putting it in, not withdrawing it. And then the cashier at Wendy's. She was very sweet. I tried an experiment. Instead of acting like I was in a hurry, I smiled, asked her how she was doing (that caught her off guard, sad to say), and tried to engage with her in conversation about how much The D loves their food. I stopped short of telling her the story about how I worked at Wendy's for two weeks in high school before the tornado (thankfully, because I hated working there) blew it away. And about the tray full of soft drinks I spilled and how I had to pick up a thousand little slippery round pieces of ice. How the little girl thought I was Wendy. And how the mean manager told me to clean the men's room and the nice manager saw me cowering near the door (waiting to be sure there were no men inside) and told me not to worry about it.
But it's scary that I thought about telling her all this. My experiment didn't produce any earth-shattering revelations. It still took a long time. Then when I got home, Sarita had magically appeared (I'd forgotten today's schedule) and had given The D something for lunch. He was excited about his frosty, though. So S & I sat down and ate lunch together. I was hungry. But after that, I felt like I was going to throw up. Still feel full. I think maybe I'm getting a little bug.
Well, JoJo is gonna be here any minute. She's been using the minivan while she was getting her transmission fixed this week. We've got to drive to the hood in rush hour. I'm not looking forward to that.
Oh, while I'm bitching, I'll relay the fact that I did something to my hip and it hurts like hell and I can't walk without limping. I must've slept on it funny. Or tossed and turned on it funny, anyway. One last thing. A near miss. I was zoned out, walking across the parking lot after my first client meeting and I came within a foot of walking into an extension ladder sticking out of the back of a pickup truck. That would've left a mark. I shouldn't admit this, but the ladder in the truck thing is a pretty common occurrence* for me. I should really pay attention when I'm walking through parking lots.
Well, that's all for now. If the D doesn't have some news channel on with the news ticker with market indices rolling across the bottom, I'll go watch TV with him until Jo gets here. Unless they're doing the story about Eddie Vedder coming to town to celebrate with the West Memphis Three. See, it isn't just me. It's been a strange day...
P.S. *occurrence is a damned hard word to spell
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