Do Not Cry

My motto this week has been "Do not cry" because it's been a somewhat crazy week.  Tuesday I made a trip to the St. Mary's ER after a lovely dinner and TV show at Sara's house.  I had changed purses and therefore didn't have my inhaler and also forgot to borrow the baby's when I was at my mom and dad's.  If I know one thing, it's that I will always need to go to the ER if I don't have my inhaler.  After only an hour and half, my lungs had had enough cat and I drove myself to the ER.  Good thing too because I thought I had at least some expired albuterol for my nebulizer here at the house, but turns out I didn't.  I got there in time for the evening freak show.  I filled out my paperwork, minus my phone number because I couldn't think straight enough to remember it and put on my best wheezing routine to get myself seen right away.  (I am an ER breathing treatment pro.)  I amazed the respiratory therapist and the doctor with my quick recovery because if I know a second thing, it's that my lungs react very quickly to a breathing treatment.  I was out an hour later, a $100 lighter and with three prescriptions.

Wednesday I got to work and after reading my email, uttered a string of swear words that vibrated across the campus.  Then I told the principal, "Today's mantra is: do not cry.  There is no crying in French class or After School."  I checked in with him after school and he hadn't cried and neither had I, so it was a good day.  I stood up and walked around all periods, but period 5.  Then, I stood up in my college class and I topped off the day with a trip to Target, which for the people who are not sure why you might care, that was a lot of stinking standing up for me.

Thursday I had a much harder time not crying and ended up having a small breakdown which resulted in the massive need to rearrange my classroom and clean before I could continue to work.  After that I came home to drink massive amounts of alcohol.  I may have been a little drunk.  And in my drunkenness, I decided to call Bill to find out why the fuck he hadn't called me to go walking on my day off.  Because he answered the phone, I proceeded to talk massive amounts of shit; including, but not limited to telling him that Sara's a catch, Jessica is not a skanky whore, insulting his manhood and then he had better walk with me or I was never going to speak to him again.  It was top 5 moment in my shit talking Hall of Fame.

Friday I walked four miles.  Four!! Yep and I felt fan fucking tastic afterwards.  Then I went to not one evening activity, but two.  It was a pretty big day.

Today, well, today, I planned, finished Max's quilt, bought Max some friends, walked 3 miles, babysat Max and went to Target.  And I feel pretty darn good.  I'm hoping that this recent foray into normalcy will be permanent and I am on the road to being back to normal.  I haven't had a string of this much activity in two years!

I have not even had time to do extrême-sofa this week!

Max's new friends.

(They were just visiting at his house, they're going to live here.)