... if I can make it through days like these. So now, we're on ten hour days. As I'm leaving yesterday, I get a voicemail telling me my next Dr's appointment is TOMORROW. Yep, forgot it, forgot to get the bloodwork last week. I called Laurie and had her move the appointment up. I really don't want to go to the doc now, because I'm in the throes of another visit from Mr. Mucus. The only thing that I'm sicker of than mucus and work is cough drops. So I try to take a nap yesterday at 5, told Laurie get me up about 7:30 so I catch up on the Deadliest Catch episode I missed last week. I toss, I turn. I get a call from IPFW's research dept. At 6:15, Laurie tells me the episode is a two-hour, and there's an episode of The Bait before the new episode, so if I want to watch I must get up NOW. No prob, I'll get six hours sleep tonight.
Wanna bet? Somewhere between 1:30 and 2, Scrappy has the grandmother of bad dreams. Moaning, barking, whining. And kicking. If I move away, he reaches farther. If I scoot up to pin his legs, he rears back farther. Eventually I get up because I have to pee- and I can't breathe. I get my nose spray, and soon I'm getting plenty of air.
And I can't sleep. No thoughts racing, no "too hot/cold", no coughing. My brain just says, "You're awake." I'm not convinced I didn't get swatches of shallow sleep, but I sure as heck don't remember them. Luckily today was a long but uneventful day, (And a BIG Praise Be To God for my temper remaining in it's den all day) with the most notable thing being this conversation with the production mgr:
PM: "When (the engineer in our Missouri plant) sends you a change in the marker, how does he let you know?"
Me: (Confused, because he NEVER sends me anything) "Usually the guys (our engineers) send it to me."
PM: "There are no guys today, and he has to make some corrections for me."
Me: "No guys? What's up with that?"
PM: "Andy's apparently having a baby, and Matthew called in sick."
Me: "Andy's having a baby? He wasn't showing..."
PM: "Some people are lucky like that."
Still, about one-thirty my little train started chugging down (AKA two hours left to go.). Got home safely though, and attempted another fruitless nap, filled with coughing and gagging. And here I am, just because I wanted to share all this with you, as well as something I read last night. My story comes from my 1991 version of Encyclopedia Britannica. For some reason, you have to look around for it, but I got confirmation on TheHindu.com. The story involves the ancient Hindu god Indra.
Now Indra was called "the thousand-eyed", because of all those little marks all over him, which are now eyes. But they weren't always eyes. If you are easily offended you might want to bail for what I will say next.
Indra was cursed by a sage and broke out in vaginas.
It seems that the god Brahma made a Hindu version of Helen of Troy, and gave her to a sage named Gautama Maharishi. Well, as gods are wont to do, Indra wanted a piece of the action-so to speak- and seduced her. In return, Gautama cursed him, and his body was covered with yonis, which are little drawings of vaginas.
So why is Indra not the thousand hoo-hooed? Apparently his buddy gods did a little art correction and turned them all into eye-symbols. I was going to post a yoni to see how difficult it would be to change, but... let me just say, you can draw a big ol' eyeball in the middle of it, but anyone who'd worship a male god with a thousand vaginas would probably just look like she had a black olive in an odd place.
I wonder if Robyn could use this in her Martha Stewart posts?