Gonna Rock This Town

Sigh. I’m exhausted. I can’t hack nights like last night anymore.

I don’t know where to start. I don’t know if it was being called ma’am that did me in, or listening in horror (I swear to god, it was like an out of body experience, I could not stop TALKING!) to myself explain to a couple of children (25 year old boys) at the restaurant where I was ordering takeout how to make Zipperheads (If you MUST know the recipe, it’s: Chambord, vodka, sprite; layered like a mind eraser, but in a 16 oz cup with ice, use 2 straws and race from the bottom up- DO NOT MIX. The drink is designed to coat your mouth with the liqueur and then slide the vodka down and cleanse pallet with sprite. But I digress.), or when the guy beside me whose inhibitions manners were evidently dampened by the bucket of bud light in front of him, asked me “what’s up with the hair?” and I realized he was seriously asking me as in “what is up with your hair, are you going to leave those streaks in it?” because he thought perhaps it was leftover from Halloween and he is only a few years older than I am, or when I uttered the phrase “Back in my day” when recounting stories about drunken mayhem in our town, or perhaps it was when the kid asked me what I did for a living and I had to say “I used to be a fine dining restaurant manager and then I built and repaired computers and now I modify powerwheels cars for my kids” Only to have the kid reply “oh right on so you’re the Cool Mom, huh?”  Uh, yeah. Something like that. Ask my teenager what she calls me.

Do you ever want to answer those questions (what do you do? Etc?) with something totally off the wall, like “Who fucking cares what I do? You don’t. Stop asking people that. Everybody hates their job. Find a more interesting ice breaker for fuck’s sake.”

So yeah. Yesterday was busy. I did some accidental post surgical and pre-surgical doula work because I happened to run into friends and a relative at the hospital as I was taking Jack to the doctor (you heard me. The doctor)- a broken hip and a hysterectomy. I kind of wish I was more in demand, because the hospital’s new wing is super swanky.  Pull out beds and every room is private. Every room has a fridge and a safe and a flat screen TV.

And in other news: Hell froze over and I took my son to his first pediatrician visit since he was like 6 months old AND he is on antibiotics. He’s been coughing since August and he’s been snotty since October. The diagnosis? “Since you’re going on a trip, it’s probably a good idea just in case” My diagnosis? We’re going to be around an infant and in this one fucking case, I’ll take one for the team and dose everyone up just in case. There’s a good chance that a kid with snot in their body for three months is carrying some kind of infection. The other ones are going in too. That’s right. I said hell froze over. I wasn’t kidding.  And like I said on facebook- if my kids get better, I will have to change my entire life philosophy.

And so, because yesterday was SO EXCITING and full of situations for me to deal with, righteous indignation and mortification for me to relive repeatedly in my head until the wee hours of the morning, I went to bed at 3:00 a.m. and woke up bright and early at 6:45 when the Little Dictator flipped on the light and bellowed “WAKE UP MOM!” repeatedly.

Not enough coffee in the world.