9.05.05

Category: dribblings

this is the second worse Labor Day i’ve had. the first was a couple of years ago when an old lady rear-ended my jeep.

today i woke up feeling pretty sick and not just Sinus Allergies of Great Mystery sick either. i felt a little queasy and had a bad case of repeated explosive shitting. then at noon dad calls and asks if i’ll go to the Holy House and empty the garbage chute. i figure i owe him ‘cos
A. i’m way closer to the HH than he is and
B. i’ve got his car (see yesterday’s post).

so before i go i eat a piece of cheese (even though i’ve been afraid to eat anything because everything sounds so gross) and take ANOTHER explosive crap and then venture out into public. i get two barrels of trash emptied and whew, it’s gross. and i think, “oh hell. i’m gonna puke.” so i go outside to get some fresh air.
so this lady sees me and says, “hey, come with me. we’re gonna move my tv.”
well, i mean, …okay.
so i go up with her on the 9th floor and we lift her ginormus 6,000 pound television and we put it in a shopping buggy. so we’re standing there and i start sweating profusely. oh man, what is this? my arms are tingly. i’m gonna puke aren’t i? Dear Lord, please don’t let me puke in this lady’s room. Please? let me get back to the 1st floor, okay? Please? it would just make things so much simpler…amen.

so we get on the elevator: her, me, and a shopping cart with a TV in it. then this other lady who is a notorious Talker jumps on at the last minute and starts talking and doesn’t shut up. i’m in a back corner. the elevator stops. what? no! 1st floor! 1st floor! an old lady from the 7th floor gets on. so there’s four of us and a shopping cart with a tv in it. okay let’s go let’s go…NOOOOOOoooooo! it stops on the 5th floor and TWO MORE LADIES get on. i am crammed in the corner and sweating like stuck hog and everything is getting lighter? and the old ladies are ALL rocking their own flavor of Estee Lauder (which is SO not helping) and now the prayer has changed. Dear Lord, Please don’t let me puke and/or pass out in the elevator. please? these old ladies will DIE. and i’ll be trampled and run over by a shopping cart with a tv in it and please just get me to the 1st floor bathroom, m’kay?

so Talker looks at me and says, “you don’t look good. are you okay?”
and i say, “i think i’ll be better once i get off this elevator.”
“you look green. should we get your dad?”
well, i have no time to tell her that my dad isn’t even in the building because the elevator doors have opened and yay! 1st floor! so i patiently wait for the 900 people and a shopping cart with a tv in it to Marx Brothers their way out, and i run into the bathroom and i’d like to say that i hurled, but that wouldn’t be exactly right. i heaved up…sludge. can’t explain it.

then i ran my face in the cool water of the sink. then, one of the old ladies wanted to know if i was all right. “yes ma’am.”
“you sure?” she asked, totally not believing me. “you are totally white.”
“yeah. i’m fine. i’m going to…go…to the kitchen.”
“…”
“and get some water. do you think they’ll mind?”

so i go and get some water and sit down in the cool, cool kitchen. i drink and then…because i am sweating like a sweat machine i start shivering because the air is cranked to 11 in the kitchen.
“sh-sh-sh-shit.” so i shiver my way out to the hall to walk outside where i NEEDED TO BE IN THE FIRST PLACE BUT BECAUSE I’M AN IDIOT AND COULDN’T TELL THE NICE LADY THAT, “NO, I DON’T THINK I CAN MOVE YOUR TV RIGHT THIS SECOND. LET ME HURL FIRST AND I’LL GET BACK WITH YOU.” but as i’m walking by the front desk (and trust me, i couldn’t believe it either) the lady behind the desk says, “jaimie? could you go up on the 5th floor and check the washing machine? a lady called down and says that the coin thingie isn’t sliding right and she says her coins are stuck. can you check that out please, so your dad won’t have to come out and fix something on his day off?”

oh. his day off. yeah. yes, we mustn’t fuck up his FOUR DAY WEEKEND. i mean, gosh. the poor guy had to party on thursday, friday AND AND AND saturday. (see yesterday’s post.) and hell, he’s getting ready for another cookout at a friend’s house today so yes, we mustn’t bother him with things such as…HIS JOB. like, TAKING OUT THE TRASH.

“sure,” i croak, and completely dread getting back on the elevator. so i go up to the 5th floor laundry room and it’s so hot in there ‘cos it’s like a closet with a dryer running in it and oohhh, so queasy. and i check the coin thingies on both machines and
A. there’s no coins! and
B. they both slide fine! and
C. IS THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD AGAINST ME?

i thought i was going to heave in the sink of the laundry room but i didn’t. and i got back on the elevator and thankfully it was a straight shot down and i so i wobbled outside and called my awesome friend kris to come pick me up ‘cos i didn’t think i could drive home. and i nearly cried because i am not the type that calls for help. but it was such a relief to know that i didn’t have to drive at that moment. and all i had to concentrate on was not puking in his car.

when i got home i laid down and drank some water and it was a battle of the Freezing Sweats for about two hours with more explosive shats.

by 4pm my temp was back to normal and i’d stopped crapping and i was even hungry. so mr. fleegan came by and took me to get dad’s truck and i went to the store to buy bread, peanut butter, and milk so i could have cereal for dinner.

well, around 8pm i’m ready for dinner but guess what? my genius-ass forgot to buy milk. so for dinner just now? i ate a peanut butter and Honey Smacks sandwich. it was crunchy. and i felt pathetic eating it. at first i was all, “well, this will be cool!” and then while i was eating it i got depressed and i called mr. fleegan and told him what i was eating. he was all, “ew. jaimie, i’ll bring you something to eat.” but i wasn’t that hungry.

ugh, what a waste of a holiday.

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