The Week that Wreaked

OK, Ordinarily, I am so upbeat and perky I make some people want to puke. This week however, 'twas I doing the puking, as Fate stood back with a .45 and shot b-i-g holes in my Perky bucket, draining it faster than I could patch them. First was the enormous expense involved with getting repairs done to the car that the salesman-who-is-lucky-I'm-too-sick-to-go-kill, said was in excellent condition and had no major flaws. Hmmm.....to me, needing hundreds of dollars worth of brake AND suspension work is not flawless, and I have a pretty lax judgement meter for such things. So the brake work was done Monday, and upon picking up the car, we were informed that much more work was required to make it safe and remove its shimmy (grumpy thought to self regarding salesman-whose-shimmy-should-be removed) Of course, shimmy-removal would require additional parts, which had to be ordered from the planet Expensicus, and be manufactured from a solid block of Unobtainium. Be here Wednesday. Stress rubbed its grimy, gnarled fingers together in glee, deep within my bowels, and saw an opportune time to invite some viral friends over to party. At the stroke of midnight Wednesday, they lit the place up, and I doubled over in agony; a position I have maintained ever since. Groaning, cramping, and running a high fever, I got Husband and his needs-more-work Neon to the mechanic and returned home to spend time admiring the bathroom from various angles, either hunched over or squatting upon the toilet. Thursday there was little improvement in my condition, but duty called in various forms. Middle Son was to travel to the Great White North. Well, the Great Lake North, as he is going to witness his best friend graduate from the Naval Academy in Great Lake, Illinois, just outside Chicago, which shouldn't be possible, because they can't really be old enough for military service. Sigh. Sent him on his merry way, leaving me feeling worn and forlorn. Had fallen behind on packaging orders from online sales, so between fits of pooping and puking, I wrapped parcels, until I ran out of materials. Had to go on the Great Box Hunt. Poured fevered body into blazing hot car, as Stress conspired with Weather for hottest-day-yet, and started out towards office supply store. Didn't make it. Flat-tar, despite receiving a blast of cool air on the way, screamed in protest and gave up. Perhaps it was the suction from the melting asphalt roadway, but the bead burst, and my trip was interrupted with "whumpata, whumpata, whumpata". I know of no situation where that is a good sound. Pulled into Walmart Tire and Lube, which was blessedly nearby, so the poor soul who was stuck out in the blazing sun taking oil change tickets could have a moment of comic relief by asking me what I needed. I motioned to the shredded remains of the tire, and requested a replacement. "Gwana bay wall," he muttered. Fortunately, I speak Redneck, and I nodded acknowledgement of the long wait he was implying. I went inside, spoke to the clerk about purchasing a replacement tire, was advised of the four-hour waiting list, then trudged to the ladies room to barf. I spent a fair amount of time in the ladies room, barfing and pooping, wondering how there could be anything left in my abdomen to come out either end, and being amazed when there was still more. A couple of hours into the wait, hollow now from emptying my intestinal tract and sweat glands, I returned to the automotive department, to collapse onto the wire mesh settee. People came and went, glancing at me with pity, some kindly inquiring about my condition, either out of genuine concern, or fear that they awaited the same fate, since it looked like I could be carnage of the wait. I became one with the wire mesh settee, eyes glazed and dull, occasionally attempting to focus on the security camera's flickering images of the vehicles ahead of mine. At last, I saw movement..... oh praise God, they are pulling Bentra Sentra in! The clerk told me they were going to have me finished up before long, and I could see the relief on his face, since funerals are one of the few services not yet available at Walmart, and he looked pretty sure I was going to die soon. At last, I paid the bill, staggered out into the dusk, drove home and disintegrated into a blubbering blob and went to bed. Friday I sent out the orders, and came home to re-hydrate. I spent much of yesterday in bed, sleeping and sucking down massive quantities of fluids. The window air conditioners struggled valiantly against the 100+ temperatures, but the indoor thermometer read 87 degrees at 10 PM. I ran a tub of cool water and floated in it dreamily until I was a blonde prune, at last dragging my dripping body onto the mattress where I remained until moments ago. I will be welding up the Perky bucket and replenishing it with joviality and unrelenting optimism, so Fate, you'll just have to go take target practice somewhere else. It was a worthy effort, and I salute you. {{Raises jigger of Pepto-Bismol, and nods}}