Andi Pandi

I am the worst sick person ever.  I only get sick with the head-cold-congestion-aches-and-pains-crap about twice a year and twice a year I revert to a  three year old.  I get other things: stomach bugs and uti's and random other stuff, but when The Cold hits me?  I am a disaster of a human being.

I want to be cuddled on the couch like a three year old.  I want to eat but nothing sounds good.  Steve indulged me last night by standing in the kitchen asking:

Do you want soup?

um, I don't know, what kind?

Do you want a turkey sandwich?

I don't know, that turkey has pepper on it and my throat burns

Do you want pizza?

I don't know

Do you want cereal?

Maybe, what kind?

Do you want a milk shake?

Yeah, maybe

Do you want a slush from Sonic?

Yes. Thank you. Cranberry. A big one.

(The italics don't really represent correctly the amount of whining and patheticness accompanying these words.)

Poor, guy.  If it had been me, I would have asked about the soup, made the soup, served the soup and smiled sweetly.  He has endless patience with me.

What's different this time?  Well, she is tiny, and screams.  So, where I used to nurse myself back to wellness by laying on the couch and moaning, I now have competition.  I have found already that I can exist on little or even NO sleep at all.  Now I am finding that I can not only exist, but function pretty darned well.  Even when my head was so stuffy I was certain that trolls had snuck inside and built a booger-wall, I still smiled when Steve handed her to me at three in the morning to feed.

So, my whining has cooled a little and my self pity has calmed a little.  I used to be ANDI WITH A COLD LOOK OUT!  Now I am just andi, baby-mama, with a cold.  (in lower case, much less dramatic).

Not going to apologize again for not posting in a while...just going to get on with it.

I came back to work last week.  Only two and a half days a week.  It still seems like an eternity when you know your kid is at daycare with other kids who are probably hurting her as we speak! gah!  okay, alright, they are probably nice kids, even though I walked in one day and saw two little boys on either side of her swing pushing her back and forth at whip-lash speeds...and the little ADD/ADHD case named, well I better not say, who wants to put his face right up in my boobies when I am nursing the baby at lunch time: what are you doing, why is she doing that, how can she eat that, that is so gross, did my mom do that with me, how old are you, i am three and on and on and on ad nauseum.

So upon my return to work I came in contact with the only aspect of my office that i hate: The Stink Hole.  It is the single stall bathroom on the second floor that everyone universally uses as the poo-room.  I am sure it seemed like a good idea at the time--this way there is no stinking up the big bathroom and the remaining 4 stalls in there.  buuuuut, The Stink Hole has NO FAN!!  That means that the smell just sort of festers in there.  And it is warm.  Like abnormally warm.  Like compost-pile warm.  So you walk in and are slapped in the face with this hot, moist, septic tank situation.

At some point I think someone attempted to either spray something or burn something or exorcize the room or something because there is also a faint flowery smell.  Mixed in with the poo smell.

Has no one every heard of the courtesy flush?  Sure, you may get a little spray on your fanny, but in Europe they call that a bidea!  Its chic.  It is like a short bath for your ass.  Go with it!

The only potential solution would be to somehow prop the door open a little when it is vacant, but then that smell would waft through the entire second floor and nauseate the staff and raise absenteeism rates and everything would well, go in the shitter to be frank.

The benefit of The Stink Hole is this:  I have had to use it before.  Typically I will turn blue holding "it" in until I am at my home potty, but occasionally (too much fiber? I don't know) I have to use it.  So I wait until I am about to come undone, run in there and do the entire deed on one breath of fresh air.  I am a speed-pooper!

Frankly, I am suprised though that the room doesn't glow sort of green or have a little flame burning like at the dump.  Not only that, but I know who the lingering offenders are.  The people who spend like 30 minutes in there.  THERE AREN'T EVEN ANY MAGAZINES!  I think some of the older people just go in there to warm up.  (It can be chilly in here with the industrial air conditioners blowing all day).

So there it is: My Rant for the day.  I will try to come up with something fun to tell you next time and i PROMISE to be better about the posting.

Lovie!!