Have you ever noticed that when you’re not feeling well things just seem to keep piling up on you? That’s the day I had today. I should probably be curled up in a corner weeping but I, and perhaps it’s the fever talking, keep giggling about everything that’s gone on.
I wasn’t sleeping well. Heck, I wasn’t sleeping at all. For a bit over 48 hours I stayed up in spite of the doctor insisting I get a lot of sleep. I was agonizing over moving to a hosted WordPress site, researching, reading reviews, tying up the live chat people for hours with questions and concerns. Thirteen hours after I decided to start looking into it I made the jump. The sun wasn’t even up yet. And that started another six hours of actually getting everything set up. So you’d think I’d go to sleep then, right?
No. Of course not. I had to start playing with themes and plugins and discovering I’ve forgotten darned near everything I knew about HTML and CSS. I changed the themes on both sites so many times I started to go cross-eyed.
By that time it was the pre-dawn hours and the house was extremely quiet. Quiet until I heard a kind of sneaky, rattling noise behind me, that is. It was coming from the kitchen. Specifically, it was coming from inside a cupboard in the kitchen. Had someone broken in earlier and hid in the pots and pans cupboard planning to slink out after we were asleep and kill us and steal my ice cream and turkey? I’ll explain the ice cream and turkey another time. No. It was a mouse! In my kitchen cupboard!
Now, I live in a rural area so we get a mouse every fall. It’ll come in when the weather turns cold and the garden is no longer providing a feast. If you live in the country mice are just a way of life. But I don’t tolerate them inside. I go totally Rambo on them! By which I mean I make Mr. Comfortable set a few traps and remove the body once the darned thing is caught. I added “kill mouse” to my honey do list and settled down in front of the computer again.
Meanwhile, my fever was working quietly in the background. I began to cough a lot. It felt like it was 100 degrees in the house but the heat was set to 68. I was sweating. Remy came over and laid down right up against my wheelchair. He hates being that close to it just in case I forget to check for a paw or tail before moving. But everything service dog in him told him he needed to be very close. I decided that 48+ hours with no sleep was enough. I took some of the prescription cough syrup and went to bed.
Today I woke up with a codeine hangover in the middle of the afternoon. I dragged myself to the couch and sat clutching a cup of coffee (thank you Mr. Comfortable) and staring into space. There was something I was supposed to do. Ah, yes. The nebulizer! Andi had brought a nebulizer over so I could do my breathing treatments sans trips to the doctor’s office. Since I’m nothing if not compliant *cough, cough* I set everything up and began my part in it. I was breathing just like I’m supposed to with the mask strapped on and my glasses fogging from the Albuterol. Good for me!
Suddenly the mask went rogue and everything fell apart. I had Albuterol running all over my lap and I couldn’t even see the darned end of the hose because my glasses were still fogged over. That’s what you get for doing what you’re told! I got everything back together and finished what was left of the treatment.
Later I decided to make some spicy soup for my sore throat. For some reason spicy doesn’t hurt. It feels good. My niece, Debbie taught me this trick and Pete brought over 4 cans of my favorite spicy soup. But I wasn’t feeling very ambitious so I decided to just heat it in the microwave rather than pull out a pot, scrub it in case the mouse had touched it, and heat the soup on the stove. The microwave would be so much easier, I thought.
The problem was that I don’t use the microwave for much more than heating up coffee I’ve let sit too long. And if you put something, uncovered, in the microwave for longer than necessary it tends to explode. Pieces of tomato and Italian sausage launch themselves from the bowl embedding themselves in the walls, ceiling (roof?), and door of the microwave. And the broth just oozes down every surface.
And I didn’t even clean it up! I just took what was left in the bowl and huddled over it like Scrooge in front of his fireplace. It’s still there! You can look. I’ll wait.
While I was turning soup into some kind of rocket-propelled weapon Mr. Comfortable was out buying more soup for me to blow up and a few mouse traps. He doesn’t like the kind we bought last year. They work so I’m not sure why he doesn’t like them. I think it’s an aesthetics issue. And he brought home fast food. Not because I haven’t been making dinner but because he’s a really sweet man who thought I should get to do nothing while I’m sick and resting *cough, cough* And he also brought me caramel apples which I love more than…well…a lot of other things.
He also called me to see if I needed freezer bags. The man knows me. I checked my stash of previously used but still good bags and got a very unwelcome surprise. There was a spider in one of the gallon size bags! Seriously? A spider climbed in one of my bags? This is empirical evidence that everything I wrote about spiders is true!
This is a close up of the spider’s face
He set the traps and I went back to the computer because rest is so important when you’re trying to stay out of the hospital. Also because our spare dog, Henry had decided he was going to sleep on the bed and wouldn’t move over!
And as I started to drive myself crazy over themes again I heard that sound! The snap of a mousetrap! Yay! We got him!
But Mr. Comfortable isn’t a big believer that where there’s one mouse there’s actually only one mouse. He reset the traps and, within minutes there was another snap! But this mouse wasn’t going quietly into that good night. He’d only gotten his leg caught and he was still very much alive. I instantly formulated a plan that involved dropping the mouse (trap still attached) into a coffee can, driving to Pete’s house, leaving it on the porch, then texting him to tell him to handle it. Mr. Comfortable had a slightly different plan. He whacked the little Die Hard Mouse on the head with the business end of a butter knife. Mr. Comfortable has a ruthless side I knew nothing about.
So now it’s night again and I’m getting ready to face the nebulizer again. I don’t know if I’m up to making soup but if I make it in the microwave maybe some tomato bits still clinging to the ceiling will fall into the bowl giving me even more soup. All’s quiet in the kitchen since the last kill. Mr. Comfortable has taken my camera away. Something about post-mortem photography creeps him out. Maybe it was me wanting to prop them up on toy furniture like those Victorian era death portraits you find on Pinterest.
I hope my fever breaks soon. I think it’s making me weird.