I have been pushed out.
Of my bed.
Resting peacefully in my bed is my dear husband and our precious little boy. Who just puked all over me. This wasn't just spit up, this was big boy sick. Poor Jacks was traumatized by the whole experience. He told me he never wanted to spit like that again. Bless him. As soon as he felt better, he told me he wanted to go to school. Already my boy can sense when we are going to make him stay home. Senor Smarty Pants.
We got him all cleaned up, the sheets changed, and determined that Jacks does not have a fever. But now I have nowhere to sleep. Joe just came through the living room to make sure I was okay on the couch. When I offered to help him move Jacks back to his crib, Joe refused saying he wanted Jacks to stay close to him tonight. I can't be mad at him for being such an amazing daddy. But dude, that's my bed. And it has clean sheets.
And now I'm on the couch. And I smell like puke. And I'm watching The MTV Video Music Awards. Hmmm, Lady Gaga covered in blood. Okay. I thought the silver phantom of the opera mask was weird. Now I wish I could see it again. (in the past I have considered doing a running commentary of the VMAs - I have lots to say about fantabulous freak shows. But I'm unable to refrain from using rampant foul language, and therefore I have to save my thoughts for Joe and whoever else I can get to listen to my VMA material over the next couple of days.) I'll stop myself from talking about Kanye......
Did I mention that I am currently serving jury duty for the next 5-7 days? Yeah, okay, here's what happened. I have been summoned for jury duty 8 times over the past few years. Each time, I have called the justice center and weaseled my way out of it. I always have a great excuse - I'm going to be out of town, I have to teach summer school, I have a c-section scheduled for that day - you know, normal types of excuses. But the last time I was warned that I could not get out of it again. Apparently they have a limit of how many times you can beg off. So, September 14th arrived, and I had to show up to the justice center bright and shiny. There was a room full of people, and we were informed that they only needed 2 juries - one for a civil case which should take no more than 1 day and another for a grand jury. Out of the room full of people, there was no way I would be among the 18 names randomly chosen to serve on the grand jury. Think a-freakin-gain (that was again with a freakin in the middle of it).
So, my name was called. And the group of us was escorted down a long corridor, still under the impression that there was going to be some sort of a selection process that we would have to get through. No, we were informed that we had been through it already. This was it. I beg someone to allow me to use a phone to call my school to get a sub for the next day. Then I heard the district attorney speak to us. And he informed us that there was enough on the docket for 6 days of work, and we should plan to be there for 7.
7 days. I have to miss 7 days of work. 7 days.
Do you have any idea how horrible that is? I have never missed 7 days of work in a row for any reason other than childbirth. A liberty that I just took 5 months ago. And now I have to miss another 7 days to hear about murder, rape, theft, assault, forgery, and general mayhem? Great. That is just great. Then, my son pukes all over me. And I have no where to sleep.
I need something good to happen to me, folks. Like now. Will someone come babysit my kids so I can go see Inglorious Basterds? I don't know when I can have you do this for me, because I think my schedule is pretty much full through Sunday. Oh wait.....I have a hole on Thursday night. Anyone, anyone.......
Some of you might be saying, Gee Katie, why do you want to see a violent blood fest like that movie when your days are filled with crime and sadness? Well, friends, that's simple. It's a Quentin Tarantino movie, and I go see those movies. I saw Pulp Fiction 4 times in the movie theater in my freshman year of college because I thought it was the greatest, coolest movie of all time. And I even took a date to one viewing, then promptly broke up with him because he didn't "get" it. Didn't get it? Well, I didn't get him! Dumbass.
Wait, did this post have a point? Doubtful. I think I'm mostly just whining.
On a good note, the new Dan Brown book is coming out tomorrow, and I plan on hunting down a copy during my lunch break tomorrow. I'm a sucker for those books. Yes, I loved the DaVinci Code and Angels and Demons. I'm not made of stone. My lunch break is also a time when I have to go grocery shopping and somehow shove some food in my mouth in between errands. We aren't dismissed from jury duty until 4:30. That additional hour in the afternoon just breaks me. All of a sudden I have to come home immediately and bathe my baby, figure out dinner without thinking, and settle everyone down.
Really, Beyonce? We're still going strong with that metal robot glove thing? Okay, if you think that's a wise choice.
Alright. That's it. Shut it down.
