I've been dreaming a lot.
Well, I always dream.
But lately the dreams have been filled with a cast of old and forgotten friends.
People I stopped thinking about the minute the door closed.
Or so I thought.
I guess my subconscious had other plans.
More then once I've been dreaming of innocence in the guise of the little kids I was a nanny for on Kona. In my dreams I chase them around in the fields of grass that reach my waist. Their mother is never in my dreams, which I suppose explains the peaceful feelings of the dreams.
Last night I dreamt of a guy that I didn't even officially date. He was someone I "enjoyed" for a few weeks before I left Ireland. It's been years since I've thought about him. Yet last night I dreamt of waking up in his bed. I dreamt that we had a life together. And it was a good life. I wore dresses and heels and he would pick me up, swing me around and kiss me. Often.
A few nights before that I dreamt of a girl that I called my Soul Twin. We worked together years ago and we were inseperatable. We were Will & Grace. For a year. But in my dreams we shared an apartment and watched horror movies and had dance parties in our socks.
Years ago I spent three months in Utah living with one of my favorite people. While I was there I spent two nights talking all night with a guy that lived down the street. Two nights of walking around empty streets and eating bad food from IHOP. I lost my phone the third day, got a new phone, with a new number. I moved out of state two days later. Two months later I found my old phone, charged it and found multiple texts from this guy. I realized I hadn't given him my new number and he had no idea what happened to me. I felt a pang of guilt and then promptly forgot about him. Until this last month. I woke up after dreaming of walking Utah streets with him.
It's been like that all month. People showing up and starring in my dreams that I thought were filed away in a forgotten drawer "of could have been" memories. Thinking about it, all these guest stars that have taken over my dreams, they are all life paths that I could have gone down. If things had been slightly different, maybe I would still be in Hawaii. Or living with someone else.. somewhere else. I believe in free agency, the choice to choose your life. I don't believe in soul mates, or in that we are destined to live our lives a certain way. I do believe there are many paths that we could walk. And these people that are all different paths I could have gone. Not just romantically. But actual lives that I could have lived.
Maybe that's why I keep dreaming about them. I'm feeling restless and nervous and overworked and so my subconcious has been reminding me about these other lives I could have lived with these other people.
Is this what regret feels like?
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
New House meet everyone. Everyone, Meet New House
Pretty pretty new house.
I just finished my first quiz (online, what a convinence) and aced it. So to celebrate I'll finally post pictures of New House. New House doesn't have a name yet, but give it time.
I had to put this post in two parts because the website only allowed me a certain number of pictures per post and apparently it thinks I'm being excessive. Which I may be, but you have to deal with it.
Ok so first a sneak peek of my library. Cause I love it soo much.
Front of the house. I'm not thrilled with the yard but am grateful for not having to mow grass.
This side view of the house makes it look huge. Which it's not. It's comfy.
So the previous tenants really liked color. We spent the first week painting. All these pictures are the "before" pictures. As you can see, the library was originally green with a blue ceiling. Thank the gods for Erin and Sully and The Boy's dad who all came and helped apply layer after layer of primer.
The stairwell was painted blue and you can see a peek of the loft. Which is a tan-ish brown color. The loft stayed that color, I can deal with tan. The stairwell was painted. I don't do blue walls.
As you can see, the guest room was pink,purple and blue. Now after many many layers of primer it's a respectable white. Jess's bathroom is/was wall to wall neon green.
Jess's room was pink and brown. Brown. Seriously. Also did I forget to mention that bathroom's ceiling was painted neon green too?!
The master bedroom. And our new king sized mattress which I love more then life itself. It's like having my own bed again, only The Boy is still in reaching distance in case of bad dreams. The blue walls were actually all different shades of blue.
And our master bathroom. I'm not a huge fan of the brown, but it does match our cool barren tree shower curtain and frankly we ran out of energy to paint. So it stays. For now.
So that's the before pictures. Scroll down to see the finished downstairs.
I just finished my first quiz (online, what a convinence) and aced it. So to celebrate I'll finally post pictures of New House. New House doesn't have a name yet, but give it time.
I had to put this post in two parts because the website only allowed me a certain number of pictures per post and apparently it thinks I'm being excessive. Which I may be, but you have to deal with it.
Ok so first a sneak peek of my library. Cause I love it soo much.
Front of the house. I'm not thrilled with the yard but am grateful for not having to mow grass.
This side view of the house makes it look huge. Which it's not. It's comfy.
So the previous tenants really liked color. We spent the first week painting. All these pictures are the "before" pictures. As you can see, the library was originally green with a blue ceiling. Thank the gods for Erin and Sully and The Boy's dad who all came and helped apply layer after layer of primer.
The stairwell was painted blue and you can see a peek of the loft. Which is a tan-ish brown color. The loft stayed that color, I can deal with tan. The stairwell was painted. I don't do blue walls.
As you can see, the guest room was pink,purple and blue. Now after many many layers of primer it's a respectable white. Jess's bathroom is/was wall to wall neon green.
Jess's room was pink and brown. Brown. Seriously. Also did I forget to mention that bathroom's ceiling was painted neon green too?!
The master bedroom. And our new king sized mattress which I love more then life itself. It's like having my own bed again, only The Boy is still in reaching distance in case of bad dreams. The blue walls were actually all different shades of blue.
And our master bathroom. I'm not a huge fan of the brown, but it does match our cool barren tree shower curtain and frankly we ran out of energy to paint. So it stays. For now.
So that's the before pictures. Scroll down to see the finished downstairs.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
New House Part II
So you only get to see the bottom floor because while the second floor has all the big furniture set up, nothing is on the walls and there are more then a few boxes still laying about upstairs. We kind ran out of steam on the whole unpacking thing. There is one (1!) box that is just pantry kitchen stuff and I can't seem to bring myself to put it away. My lazy is in full bloom right now.
Ok so pictures.
First is picture of my library. I heart it. Not sure where the other bookshelves will go though. Good thing The Boy is good with a hammer.
I thought about putting up floor to ceiling bookshelves but I can't bear to cover up that paint after all the work we put into making it not blue and green anymore.
So I love this room divider. Out of all the couches in the house I love sitting there most. I just love being able to talk to Jess while she cooks but still be in my library. Eventually I'll put a cushion on it so my bum is more comfortable.
A new table is on my list of wants/needs. But more likely it will just be a new table cloth.
Our cute kitchen. Already getting a lot of use
Jess's couch and my chair. That's the official homework chair. It just swallows me and all my notebooks and books.
View from the sliding glass door that leads to our backyard. Which you can't see yet cause it's just dirt. And a fire pit. But just wait. That's our next project.
So this is the other side of the library. Soon there will be more bookshelves where that mirror is. Also, that door that is 3 stairs up is a half bath. How cute right?
View from the stairs
And the guest bathroom!
I promise more pictures of the upstairs, but not until there are less boxes.
Ok so pictures.
First is picture of my library. I heart it. Not sure where the other bookshelves will go though. Good thing The Boy is good with a hammer.
I thought about putting up floor to ceiling bookshelves but I can't bear to cover up that paint after all the work we put into making it not blue and green anymore.
So I love this room divider. Out of all the couches in the house I love sitting there most. I just love being able to talk to Jess while she cooks but still be in my library. Eventually I'll put a cushion on it so my bum is more comfortable.
A new table is on my list of wants/needs. But more likely it will just be a new table cloth.
Our cute kitchen. Already getting a lot of use
Jess's couch and my chair. That's the official homework chair. It just swallows me and all my notebooks and books.
View from the sliding glass door that leads to our backyard. Which you can't see yet cause it's just dirt. And a fire pit. But just wait. That's our next project.
So this is the other side of the library. Soon there will be more bookshelves where that mirror is. Also, that door that is 3 stairs up is a half bath. How cute right?
View from the stairs
And the guest bathroom!
I promise more pictures of the upstairs, but not until there are less boxes.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Quick update
Sorry for the radio silence. Moving, Holidays and overtime at work has left me completely uninspired to write and/or record the events of the last few weeks.
I'm sitting in our loft, on the floor because Qwest hates me and sent me a modem but not a wireless one. So I sit on the floor. I'm sitting between two TV's as well. Four males face me, screaming and yelling at the screens while they protect the world from the zombies that threaten to overrun us all. Based off their yelling, I think we may be safe for another day. Bodhi is sleeping through all of this, sleeping soundly on my foot. Jess is downstairs, working out. Her two pups, Raine and London are pacing around the house trying to figure out why everyone is yelling.
I love the new house. Love. Love. Love
It's full of people and dogs and noisy and quiet, it just depends on where you are in the house. I have a library. Folks, I HAVE A LIBRARY. And a living room. And a loft. Oh, and a master bedroom. As if I was running out of space. Give me another day or two and I will post all sorts of pictures that won't do it justice.
Oh, and I signed up for school yesterday. It was terrifying and frustrating and terrifying. Part of me is soo excited. Yay to be learning again. Yay to moving on to phase two of my five year plan. Yay to filling my days with productive activity. The other part of me is agahst. I just paid how much money?!? To go to school?! Why am I paying money to learn things? I have google. I don't need to learn things. And why is it all soo expensive?!
Breathe
I celebrated signing up for classes by going to lunch with the boy and friends and day drinking. Which turned into night drinking. Which turned into Sam worshipping the toilet.
That doesn't cover half of the things I need to catch up on. But I am le tired and slightly sick. I'm going to curl up in my chair in my library and read until my eyes close. Then let The Boy bring me upstairs into our comfy bed in our comfy room in our fabulous (and comfy) house.
Yeah, I think this year is going to be just fine.
I'm sitting in our loft, on the floor because Qwest hates me and sent me a modem but not a wireless one. So I sit on the floor. I'm sitting between two TV's as well. Four males face me, screaming and yelling at the screens while they protect the world from the zombies that threaten to overrun us all. Based off their yelling, I think we may be safe for another day. Bodhi is sleeping through all of this, sleeping soundly on my foot. Jess is downstairs, working out. Her two pups, Raine and London are pacing around the house trying to figure out why everyone is yelling.
I love the new house. Love. Love. Love
It's full of people and dogs and noisy and quiet, it just depends on where you are in the house. I have a library. Folks, I HAVE A LIBRARY. And a living room. And a loft. Oh, and a master bedroom. As if I was running out of space. Give me another day or two and I will post all sorts of pictures that won't do it justice.
Oh, and I signed up for school yesterday. It was terrifying and frustrating and terrifying. Part of me is soo excited. Yay to be learning again. Yay to moving on to phase two of my five year plan. Yay to filling my days with productive activity. The other part of me is agahst. I just paid how much money?!? To go to school?! Why am I paying money to learn things? I have google. I don't need to learn things. And why is it all soo expensive?!
Breathe
I celebrated signing up for classes by going to lunch with the boy and friends and day drinking. Which turned into night drinking. Which turned into Sam worshipping the toilet.
That doesn't cover half of the things I need to catch up on. But I am le tired and slightly sick. I'm going to curl up in my chair in my library and read until my eyes close. Then let The Boy bring me upstairs into our comfy bed in our comfy room in our fabulous (and comfy) house.
Yeah, I think this year is going to be just fine.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
My own worst enemy
There are two very different people that come together to make up Sam.
Notice I said "come together" not "combine"
This distinction is very very important.
One of those people is logical, practical, giving, low key and laid back.
That girl loves wearing jeans and size four skater shoes.
She will spend hours in a bookstore just running her hands up and down the shelves.
That girl enjoys cooking elaborate meals.
She loves decorating her living space, especially if there loud music playing.
That girl worries and frets about how her siblings are growing up
She buys them clothes for their bodies and books for their souls
That girl has a five year plan that involved getting a well paying job and finishing school in order to be able to apply for a job that will take her all over the world. That girl has completed year one of said plan. She has been diligent. She even managed to visit three states and Mexico (twice!) while undergoing a grueling year of training. She went to a combat school and learned to fight with some really tough ass people. She's happy in her relationship and loves her dog and her books. She loves naps and sleeping in. She's a little nervous about going to school but also can't wait. Her hair is blonde and growing out long, her body looks pretty good most of the time, her personality is bubbly and excited and she is happy. Content almost.
The other girl that makes up Sam is wild, spontaneous, irresponsible, selfish and fun.
This girl loves stomping around in boots and climbing trees... or rocks.
She believes that history and new places should be climbed on, even if the sign forbids it.
This girl wants to know everyone's darkest secret and what makes them tick.
She's fearless.
This girl will do/has done almost anything for an adrenaline rush.
She wants to travel not just to see the world, but to stay and live among different cultures.
This girl doesn't care about family. She made it out alive on her own, they will too.
She swims in the ocean at night and only goes repelling when the moon is shining.
This girl loves meeting strangers and leaving them before she tires of them.
This girl is reason I move constantly. She wants to dye her hair dark again and be mysterious. Why I can't ever feel complete and content. She's a wild ride and when I let her take control stories are made. She has her motorcycle license and drives her car like she's in a high speed chase at all times. This girl believes shots make everyone better friends and don't have calories. She can field strip a 1911 .45 in 24 seconds. This girl believes there is more to life then 40 work hour weeks and nights watching movies on the couch. She just needs the funding to back her dreams.
But the other half of me knows and understands that if I want to make it in the years to come with out repeating Hawaii then I need money, which means I need a job. Which means I need school, which is why I spent the last year training at this job so I can pay for school.
Almost a year ago the two halves of my personality made a pact. Follow the five year plan, let the logical side of me be in control. Really it was only fair, seeing as the wild side of me had been basically running the show since... well most of my life. The wild side was still mostly in control while I was working at the keg and going through eight bloody months of the hiring process for my current job. But in October of last year I started my new job and the wild side of me willingly walked into a cage and gave away the key. For the last year I've let logic and good sense rule me while the other part of me has been locked away. I suspect logic has been slipping the other part of me vicodin because it's been a really peaceful year. Mostly. There have been nights like tonight where the other half of me wakes up and rattles her cage, yelling and hollering with all she has. The Boy has learned to recognize those nights. Usually cause the house is completely moved around. Or because I've disappeared with a friend looking for an adventure that is close to home and come home muddy and bruised. There's been two occasions when she's escaped her cage and I've come home with a piercing or a tattoo.
I love both parts of me. They make me, well, me. I love being logical and laid back. I love being spontaneous and a trouble maker. Maybe one day I can get them to live in harmony together. In the meantime they are like two sisters too close in age. Pushing and shoving for control and attention but occasionally working together smoothly.
My friends always joked that I was born with nine lives. Thanks to my reckless and daring self it can be said I've gone through a few of those already. I want to live a life worth writing about. But I only have a few more lives left. So logic gets a to try her hand and see if can't be more successful then living spontaneously.
Now, off to see 127 hours. Hopefully watching a movie about a daredevil that ends up having to saw his arm off will shut the wild side of me up. Or at least temporarily scare her into silence.
Notice I said "come together" not "combine"
This distinction is very very important.
One of those people is logical, practical, giving, low key and laid back.
That girl loves wearing jeans and size four skater shoes.
She will spend hours in a bookstore just running her hands up and down the shelves.
That girl enjoys cooking elaborate meals.
She loves decorating her living space, especially if there loud music playing.
That girl worries and frets about how her siblings are growing up
She buys them clothes for their bodies and books for their souls
That girl has a five year plan that involved getting a well paying job and finishing school in order to be able to apply for a job that will take her all over the world. That girl has completed year one of said plan. She has been diligent. She even managed to visit three states and Mexico (twice!) while undergoing a grueling year of training. She went to a combat school and learned to fight with some really tough ass people. She's happy in her relationship and loves her dog and her books. She loves naps and sleeping in. She's a little nervous about going to school but also can't wait. Her hair is blonde and growing out long, her body looks pretty good most of the time, her personality is bubbly and excited and she is happy. Content almost.
The other girl that makes up Sam is wild, spontaneous, irresponsible, selfish and fun.
This girl loves stomping around in boots and climbing trees... or rocks.
She believes that history and new places should be climbed on, even if the sign forbids it.
This girl wants to know everyone's darkest secret and what makes them tick.
She's fearless.
This girl will do/has done almost anything for an adrenaline rush.
She wants to travel not just to see the world, but to stay and live among different cultures.
This girl doesn't care about family. She made it out alive on her own, they will too.
She swims in the ocean at night and only goes repelling when the moon is shining.
This girl loves meeting strangers and leaving them before she tires of them.
This girl is reason I move constantly. She wants to dye her hair dark again and be mysterious. Why I can't ever feel complete and content. She's a wild ride and when I let her take control stories are made. She has her motorcycle license and drives her car like she's in a high speed chase at all times. This girl believes shots make everyone better friends and don't have calories. She can field strip a 1911 .45 in 24 seconds. This girl believes there is more to life then 40 work hour weeks and nights watching movies on the couch. She just needs the funding to back her dreams.
But the other half of me knows and understands that if I want to make it in the years to come with out repeating Hawaii then I need money, which means I need a job. Which means I need school, which is why I spent the last year training at this job so I can pay for school.
Almost a year ago the two halves of my personality made a pact. Follow the five year plan, let the logical side of me be in control. Really it was only fair, seeing as the wild side of me had been basically running the show since... well most of my life. The wild side was still mostly in control while I was working at the keg and going through eight bloody months of the hiring process for my current job. But in October of last year I started my new job and the wild side of me willingly walked into a cage and gave away the key. For the last year I've let logic and good sense rule me while the other part of me has been locked away. I suspect logic has been slipping the other part of me vicodin because it's been a really peaceful year. Mostly. There have been nights like tonight where the other half of me wakes up and rattles her cage, yelling and hollering with all she has. The Boy has learned to recognize those nights. Usually cause the house is completely moved around. Or because I've disappeared with a friend looking for an adventure that is close to home and come home muddy and bruised. There's been two occasions when she's escaped her cage and I've come home with a piercing or a tattoo.
I love both parts of me. They make me, well, me. I love being logical and laid back. I love being spontaneous and a trouble maker. Maybe one day I can get them to live in harmony together. In the meantime they are like two sisters too close in age. Pushing and shoving for control and attention but occasionally working together smoothly.
My friends always joked that I was born with nine lives. Thanks to my reckless and daring self it can be said I've gone through a few of those already. I want to live a life worth writing about. But I only have a few more lives left. So logic gets a to try her hand and see if can't be more successful then living spontaneously.
Now, off to see 127 hours. Hopefully watching a movie about a daredevil that ends up having to saw his arm off will shut the wild side of me up. Or at least temporarily scare her into silence.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
To Be Understood
Don't you love when you stumble upon something that you connect with? This website constantly posts things like this that describes me or my feelings so... well perfectly. One day I will meet the fabulous person who posts these and we will run away together and have grand adventures.
One day...
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Gods Clearly Hate Me
In case I was confused, this morning is a perfect reminder as to why I'm soooo not having children.
Sunday night I got off work at 10pm. Got home, loaded up the dog and met Jess over at the dog park. Jess has a German Shepard (Raine) and a Papillon (London). The dog park is technically closed after 10pm, but it's completely fenced in and just happens to be the size of a running track. So we kind of ignore the rules. So we run and chat and walk and run again. Bodhi, Raine and London follow us, or run ahead of us or ignore us completely and just pee on everything. Which they should, it's a dog park. It's really adorable to watch London run with us on her little legs. She can keep up, but only if she doesn't lose focus.
I'm slightly scared that she will run too hard for her little body and have a heart attack. But she seemed to handle 3 miles just fine. Better then me actually. It's distressing to see a five pound dog at me with pity while I huff and puff.
So last night we run. We finish about midnight, Bodhi and I find our way home. I have a been having a hard sleeping lately, so I've been taking sleeping pills. Not a huge deal, except for the fact that while i'm sleeping I am out. Completely. The zombies could rise and I would just roll over and pull the blankets over my head.
The Boy gets home about 7am. He takes the dog out for another walk. Cursing the whole time about living in apartments and three flights of stairs. Or so I assume. As I said, I was out, like a light.
At 9am Bodhi started to cry. Have you heard a dog whimper and whine? It's really pathetic sounding. I was in such a deep sleep that I heard it in my dreams first. When I finally woke up I stumbled out of the room, peered around, saw that the dog had food and water, peered at the dog and stumbled back into the room.
"Matt! Did you walk the dog when you got home?!"
"mumble mumble"
"Matt!"
"mumble mumble yes"
I turned to the dog.
"He says he walked you. I have a fuzzy memory of running at a dog park with you.
So you are clearly well fed, exercised and have had plenty of time to poop. GO TO BED."
I fell into the bed.
Possibly moments later we hear a crash.
My first and only thought was oh no the book cases. We're in the middle of moving, so all my books have been packed away but the empty bookcases are still in the living room, looking forlorn. So I figured the crash was one of those falling over. I thought about getting up again, but really, if it had already fallen over what good would I be doing by putting it back up? It would just fall over again. And any mess it created could clearly wait.
Thank Hera the boy dragged himself out of bed to investigate. I heard a moment of yelling, a moment of whining and then the boy falling back into bed.
Two hours later my alarm went off. I stumbled out of bed. I opened my bedroom door.
AND WALKED INTO A WALL OF STENCH.
Bodhi had been crying because he was sick. Like, food poisoning sick. You know the kind that makes you so sick that all the poison comes out both ends. Bodhi finally gave up on making it out doors and proceeded to vomit and poop all over the living room.
As I was gagging I tried to look for Bodhi. There was so much shit (literally) that I was afraid I would find a dying dog who I would have to hold and cry because I didn't believe him and some how this was all my fault. Luckily I found him cowering under the table, sure that he was in trouble for making a mess.
I felt so awful. Oh my god I'm a terrible person. So I hugged him, petted him, made sure he wasn't still sick (he wasn't) and then realized that I had exactly five minutes to get ready if I was going to make it work on time. So I run in the bedroom, tell the boy the bad news and dash out the door.
The Boy wakes up seven hours later to go to work. Stumbles out of bed. Opens the bedroom door.
AND WALKS INTO A WALL OF STENCH.
He does a quick clean up then dashes out the door to work.
Cut to midnight last night. I walk in the door to find a pathetic looking dog. Although most of the poop and vomit were gone the smell and the stains remained. Lingered. Preeminent. Bodhi didn't like the smell anymore then we do. There was only one option. I donned my gas mask and took to scrubbing.
Oh My God.
The carpet is ruined. I'm still grossed out hours later. The stench is a living things, stalking me from room to room. I'm hiding in the bedroom and scared to go out and face the living room. Bodhi just cowers under the table.
And all this happened because The Boy and I decided to sleep through Bodhi's warning. Clearly we will be terrible parents.
Sunday night I got off work at 10pm. Got home, loaded up the dog and met Jess over at the dog park. Jess has a German Shepard (Raine) and a Papillon (London). The dog park is technically closed after 10pm, but it's completely fenced in and just happens to be the size of a running track. So we kind of ignore the rules. So we run and chat and walk and run again. Bodhi, Raine and London follow us, or run ahead of us or ignore us completely and just pee on everything. Which they should, it's a dog park. It's really adorable to watch London run with us on her little legs. She can keep up, but only if she doesn't lose focus.
I'm slightly scared that she will run too hard for her little body and have a heart attack. But she seemed to handle 3 miles just fine. Better then me actually. It's distressing to see a five pound dog at me with pity while I huff and puff.
So last night we run. We finish about midnight, Bodhi and I find our way home. I have a been having a hard sleeping lately, so I've been taking sleeping pills. Not a huge deal, except for the fact that while i'm sleeping I am out. Completely. The zombies could rise and I would just roll over and pull the blankets over my head.
The Boy gets home about 7am. He takes the dog out for another walk. Cursing the whole time about living in apartments and three flights of stairs. Or so I assume. As I said, I was out, like a light.
At 9am Bodhi started to cry. Have you heard a dog whimper and whine? It's really pathetic sounding. I was in such a deep sleep that I heard it in my dreams first. When I finally woke up I stumbled out of the room, peered around, saw that the dog had food and water, peered at the dog and stumbled back into the room.
"Matt! Did you walk the dog when you got home?!"
"mumble mumble"
"Matt!"
"mumble mumble yes"
I turned to the dog.
"He says he walked you. I have a fuzzy memory of running at a dog park with you.
So you are clearly well fed, exercised and have had plenty of time to poop. GO TO BED."
I fell into the bed.
Possibly moments later we hear a crash.
My first and only thought was oh no the book cases. We're in the middle of moving, so all my books have been packed away but the empty bookcases are still in the living room, looking forlorn. So I figured the crash was one of those falling over. I thought about getting up again, but really, if it had already fallen over what good would I be doing by putting it back up? It would just fall over again. And any mess it created could clearly wait.
Thank Hera the boy dragged himself out of bed to investigate. I heard a moment of yelling, a moment of whining and then the boy falling back into bed.
Two hours later my alarm went off. I stumbled out of bed. I opened my bedroom door.
AND WALKED INTO A WALL OF STENCH.
Bodhi had been crying because he was sick. Like, food poisoning sick. You know the kind that makes you so sick that all the poison comes out both ends. Bodhi finally gave up on making it out doors and proceeded to vomit and poop all over the living room.
As I was gagging I tried to look for Bodhi. There was so much shit (literally) that I was afraid I would find a dying dog who I would have to hold and cry because I didn't believe him and some how this was all my fault. Luckily I found him cowering under the table, sure that he was in trouble for making a mess.
I felt so awful. Oh my god I'm a terrible person. So I hugged him, petted him, made sure he wasn't still sick (he wasn't) and then realized that I had exactly five minutes to get ready if I was going to make it work on time. So I run in the bedroom, tell the boy the bad news and dash out the door.
The Boy wakes up seven hours later to go to work. Stumbles out of bed. Opens the bedroom door.
AND WALKS INTO A WALL OF STENCH.
He does a quick clean up then dashes out the door to work.
Cut to midnight last night. I walk in the door to find a pathetic looking dog. Although most of the poop and vomit were gone the smell and the stains remained. Lingered. Preeminent. Bodhi didn't like the smell anymore then we do. There was only one option. I donned my gas mask and took to scrubbing.
Oh My God.
The carpet is ruined. I'm still grossed out hours later. The stench is a living things, stalking me from room to room. I'm hiding in the bedroom and scared to go out and face the living room. Bodhi just cowers under the table.
And all this happened because The Boy and I decided to sleep through Bodhi's warning. Clearly we will be terrible parents.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)