7:06 a.m. I wake up. Not because the sun is shining in through my window, not because the dog wants to go out, but because I have the most horrifying cramps I've had in ages (I strongly suspect that dropping a certain medication from my routine is to blame). I stumble to the bathroom to get my prescription painkillers and a heating pad. I set the alarm so I can call in to the office, as I'm currently unable to stand upright and have to hobble around like Quasimodo.
8:15 a.m. The alarm goes off, and, in a slight drug stupor, I call into the office and try to explain what's wrong with me. I was half asleep and drug-addled, so I'm not sure how successful I was.
1:20 p.m. The drugs wear off. I wake up, realizing I've been out-cold for almost five hours. I stumble out of bead and put the dog on her leash. I don't change out of my tank top and shorts, because who am I going to see? Answer? The only cute guy I've ever living in my apartment complex. Who is treated to a view of my dog turning and squatting.
2:00 p.m. Puppy throws up on the carpet.
2:20 I'm making lunch and cuddling with heating pad. Puppy scratches to go out on the balcony, a favorite pasttime of hers, wherein she goes outside and promptly wants back in. I'm getting up off the couch to open the door when I hear the wettest, most horrifying fart and look up to see Precious getting violent diarrhea all over my white carpet. And then on the balcony while I'm cleaning the carpet.
4:30 p.m. I'm at work and my painkillers wear off.
6:00 p.m. Puppy is violently ill on the balcony again.
7:15 p.m. Making "bland diet" food to cure puppy's intestinal troubles. She poops on the carpet again.
I have spent more time on my hands and knees in my rubber kitchen gloves than out. The boiled rice and hamburger seem to have helped. Puppy is sleeping and I am reunited with my heating pad.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Deny, Deny, Deny
I'm starting to wonder what kind of insanity has taken hold of this place.
It seems that Butterfly Net has flown the coup. Rick, despite multiple protestations to the contrary, is the only person who's surprised by this. Every time he says how sure he is we'll never hear from her again, he's picking up the phone to call.
Flowerpower, our erstwhile former co-counsel, seems to be confused. I'm not sure what part of "your services are no longer required" is unclear. Yet, despite being told this several times, he reports alternately feeling "left out" and "heartened" regarding his future involvement. My situation being what it is, and my caffeine supply being low, I have little to no tolerance for men who have only a passing acquaintance with consistency. Flowerpower has consistently oscillated between threatening to walk out if his conditions are not met (reminiscent of the famous VanHalen "Brown M & M's" Clause) and being super-excited about some development and wanting to have special guy-bonding-time with Rick. The fact that Flowerpower's name so closely resembles Priest's real name that when I glanced at his resume on the conference table I thought Priest was applying for a job and I almost had a heart attack, doesn't endear him to me, especially given the similarities in their hot/cold behavior. He continues state his intention to file his part of the case, despite being fired by the client.
Phone Call: Friend of the Court. Wanting to confirm the half-a-bajillion settlement on Neck Crack's case. Silence and confused looks exchanged between Rick and myself. There's no settlement deal. For any amount of money. It appears that in order to avoid a show-cause hearing regarding a statutory lien, Neck Crack has informed the relevant parties that his case has settled for more than a quarter million dollars, despite the fact that there is no such offer on the table. Not. Even. Close. Apparently, he thought saying it would make it true.
Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt.
Following weeks of alternating angry, threatening, and friendly, hopeful letters, phone calls, and emails, Flowerpower is silent. Nikki asserts that he's getting a lawyer. Rick and I think he's stockpiling fertilizer to blow up the Federal Building. I work in the Federal Building.
Shit.
It seems that Butterfly Net has flown the coup. Rick, despite multiple protestations to the contrary, is the only person who's surprised by this. Every time he says how sure he is we'll never hear from her again, he's picking up the phone to call.
Flowerpower, our erstwhile former co-counsel, seems to be confused. I'm not sure what part of "your services are no longer required" is unclear. Yet, despite being told this several times, he reports alternately feeling "left out" and "heartened" regarding his future involvement. My situation being what it is, and my caffeine supply being low, I have little to no tolerance for men who have only a passing acquaintance with consistency. Flowerpower has consistently oscillated between threatening to walk out if his conditions are not met (reminiscent of the famous VanHalen "Brown M & M's" Clause) and being super-excited about some development and wanting to have special guy-bonding-time with Rick. The fact that Flowerpower's name so closely resembles Priest's real name that when I glanced at his resume on the conference table I thought Priest was applying for a job and I almost had a heart attack, doesn't endear him to me, especially given the similarities in their hot/cold behavior. He continues state his intention to file his part of the case, despite being fired by the client.
Phone Call: Friend of the Court. Wanting to confirm the half-a-bajillion settlement on Neck Crack's case. Silence and confused looks exchanged between Rick and myself. There's no settlement deal. For any amount of money. It appears that in order to avoid a show-cause hearing regarding a statutory lien, Neck Crack has informed the relevant parties that his case has settled for more than a quarter million dollars, despite the fact that there is no such offer on the table. Not. Even. Close. Apparently, he thought saying it would make it true.
Denial. It's not just a river in Egypt.
Following weeks of alternating angry, threatening, and friendly, hopeful letters, phone calls, and emails, Flowerpower is silent. Nikki asserts that he's getting a lawyer. Rick and I think he's stockpiling fertilizer to blow up the Federal Building. I work in the Federal Building.
Shit.
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