The Present-Wrapping Cycle

Lately I've been miserably tired... it's this vicious cycle that I've accidentally sucked myself into and can't get out of. I totally blame Christmas.

Basically, I'm all nuts about Christmas and presents and being somewhat festive (by "somewhat" I mean that while I will decorate the shit out of my house, I absolutely REFUSE to listen to Christmas music while doing so. I'd rather stick pencils in my ears...) and so I've been shopping for, buying, and wrapping presents like every single day for the past 2 weeks. All while simultaneously decorating the house, inside and out, with all kinds of Christmas-y crap.

Being the OCD nut I am, I dump out all of my Christmas present wrapping supplies all over the living room floor and do not put them away until I wrap every single gift I happened to purchase that day. And sometimes this process goes on until 1:00 AM. Because in the middle of wrapping presents, I also do things like vacuum the 900 new pine needles that have fallen to the ground because our little kitties like to think the house is a RACE TRACK that they can tear ass around and they run under the tree and knock the lower branches with their fat tails or fat heads, for that matter, and thus create a pine needle 'splosion all over my damned living room.

So I vacuum mid-wrap sometimes. Other times, I bake brownies mid-wrap, because sometimes I like to pretend I am fucking Betty Crocker. Wait. Er, not actually fucking her, but you know, being her. Although I doubt Betty Crocker listens to "Shots" by LMFAO while baking. And she probably doesn't wear giant fleece fat pants with little bunnies on them while baking. She probably doesn't say "fuck" either. And she probably doesn't generally resemble me in any way. Whatever. Sometimes I bake. Shut up.

So yeah, my "wrapping" time tends to take like 5 hours because apparently I like to multitask. Or maybe it's just that I don't know how to NOT multitask. Meh?

SO. This is causing me sleep deprivation... all this Christmas shit. I stay up, wrapping, and vacuuming, and dance partying in the kitchen until 1:00 AM. And then I wake up the next morning all pissed off that I slept for less than 9-10 hours (yes, I said 9-10 hours. I need SLEEP, people!), and then I drink a fuck ton of coffee to counterbalance the super-tiredness from all of the "wrapping" the night before. Damnit. Dahmet. Bleh.

This morning was no exception. After my escapade last night (shopping, tanning, cooking steak dinner, wrapping, picture taking, vacuuming, brownie baking, laundry-ing, kitty playing, and bubble bathing) I was especially tired.

Usually, I wait until I get to the office to crack open my new favorite coffee: Starbucks Mocha Lite (woohoo less fat and carbs and calories! Win!). Today I waited only until I got out of the shower to open it.

So I sat on my little wobbly vanity stool with squinty eyes and attempted to shove some contacts in them and start the "get pretty" process.

Well, these little coffees come in a glass bottle from Bilo, so they have a little teeny lid. So I put the little teeny lid on the counter in front of me. Almost immediately I had two too many bad kittehs in front of me as well, that are not so teeny. And these two too many bad kittehs were LICKING my little teeny coffee lid.

Who knew bad kittehs liked to nom on Starbucks?! I can only imagine the havoc they are wreaking on my freshly vacuumed living room.

Oh vicious Christmas cycle, I feel we will meet again tonight...

Cranberry Juice From Hell

Okay, so apparently my immune system has up-and-friggin-left, because I have been sick as crap for the past 4 weeks. Remember how I mentioned that I went to Clemson and tried to relive my glory days and drank my face off and made fun of Laura for getting stuck in the briars? Well apparently that concoction of crap produces a very sick Nic.

I came back to Charleston and started feeling all cruddy. That was Nov 8. I called in to work sick on the 9th, worked from home on the 10th, had a wonderful federal holiday on the 11th that was spent wrapped in my zebra snuggie, I attempted to go to the office on the 12th and by Friday the 13th I was sitting on that scratchy crinkly paper in one of those stark rooms at the doctor's office. The nurse shoved giant q-tips up my nose and down my throat. Thankfully not at the same time, but still made me want to vomit. I hacked out one of those cat hairball kinda coughs where you gag and nothing comes up but it makes your eyes water and you hate your life. Thanks, nurse!

Luckily I was not diagnosed with H1N1 or strep, but I did win with the bronchitis and tonsillitis. At the same time. Woohoo, here we go wheezy cough and snotty nose! Oh and for the record, I totally sounded like Lindsay Lohan for the week. All raspy and shit. So whatever, I came home with 2 different medicines to make me feel better. Except instead, the codeine cough syrup decided to have a bad reaction with my insides and made everything all pissed off, and I woke up with a migraine that sucked all the color out of my face and made me almost puke for real (not one of those hairball almost-puke gag things). So, needless to say the healing process took a while since the medication that was supposed to make me un-sick was making me sick-sick instead. Dumb.

So I was finally feeling human again around the middle of the following week. Which may or may not have led to really awesome husband-wife time. But which totally, without a doubt, led me back to the doctor's office the following Friday, Nov. 20.

With a bladder infection from effing HELL.

Holy God, I would never wish that pain on anyone. Bleeding when you should be peeing is NOT OKAY. So I came home with 3 new prescriptions. I also came home with 2 jugs of 100% cranberry juice. Husband had taken me to see the doctor since I could hardly sit up straight, let alone drive a vehicle, and then he drove me to Bi-Lo to fill my prescriptions, which is also where we decided to buy said cranberry juice.

We stood in the juice aisle for like 17 minutes holding up different bottles of the crap comparing the percent of juice in each. Our ultimate decision was "well if Ocean Spray Cranberry has 27% real cranberry juice and this crazy $7 organic bottle of shit has 100% real cranberry juice, the $7 organic shit MUST be better and will make Nic all healthy at lightening speed!"

For the record, I have no idea how two smart people can be so dumb sometimes.

Have you ever TASTED the 27% cranberry juice?! Yeah, me too. It makes my face go like this ::scrunches nose, puckers lips, and squirts a tiny tear from left eye::

Multiply that by almost 4! (Yeah, you like my sweet math skills.)

So, like I said, or at least I think I said. Or at least I was going to say... we were driving home and I wanted to go ahead and take my cocktail of pills that warned me I would immediately become dizzy, slothful, and have pee the color of Rudolph's nose. (Not from the aforementioned blood, but from the little pills the color of wood that magically made your excrements a strange orange-y red tint.) And so to wash down these delicious little dots, I opted to take a giant swig of that 100% organic shit cranberry juice.

My mouth puckered so ferociously that I thought I might accidentally swallow my own face. Once my jaw released, I made the most giant tongue-click sound ever, as I'm fairly certain that was my tongue's way of saying it wanted to come out of my mouth and smack me in the face. My mouth immediately became as dry as the desert and all I could do was just shake my head back and forth, furrow my brow, and say "no."

After my mouth returned to normalcy, I immediately turned to Husband and proclaimed, "you've got to try this shit!" with a wicked grin on my face. Hey, if I'm going to do something gross, someone's gotta do it with me, right?

And so he did. Even though he witnessed every horrid involuntary action that just occurred to my face, he still willingly took as big a swig as I had. And his reaction? The same damn thing.

I continued to torture myself the entire ride home. Husband got a kick out of it, so I figured what the hell. Once we got home though, I couldn't stand it anymore, so he dumped a good 4 teaspoons of sugar into my stupid $7 cranberry juice. I sucked down what I could before the slothfulness really kicked in. Approximately 20 hours later, I woke up with a less burning pelvis and a much more hopeful spirit.

So I finally got over the pee pangs from hell and managed to stay out of the doctor's office for like 10 whole days. A new record! And then, I was back in by Tuesday Dec. 1 because whatever the hell bronchitis shit I had that started this horrid spiral of sickness decided to come back. Mother.Effing.Shit. So I came home with 3 new sets of drugs to cure this round of the crud. Doc gave me one of those z-packs, which I finished on Saturday Dec. 5, but guess what? I still have more snot that I thought was actually humanly possible hanging out in my face/nose/throat and it's really fucking up my whole life here, damnit. Dahmet.

So the moral of the story? Don't try to relive your college glory days because your immune system never fully recovered anyway, so you're just going to get sick. And always pee after sex. And for the love of God, AVOID bronchitis & tonsillitis at all costs because it will turn you bat shit crazy before it's all said and done and you will hate your life because you will be sick for over a month and not remember what it's like to taste food or breathe out of your nose and you will be reduced to being a mouth-breather and everyone knows mouth-breathers are pretty much the most unsexiest thing ever and no one wants that.