I've come to realize

That I'm not such a great blogger when I'm happily paired up with someone. I'm a much better blogger when I'm doing miserable things like getting dumped (because someone not me got pregnant---remember that one? Oh snap!), or having cancer, having knee surgery, getting food poisoning (remind me to fill you in on that one), having ports put in or taken out (thus causing all sorts of bad port jokes to ensue), or other depressing, not so much living a normal life things.

And I'm ok with that.

So in efforts to become a better source of entertainment to all of you, I shall recap my week:

-Monday: normal monotony at work, Teriyaki from the best place ever for dinner

-Tuesday: Dr's appt 2 hours away, more love from my special Janitor Stalker, went do dog park where some undesirable dog tried to make sweet love to Lolo, Teriyaki from second-best place ever for dinner.

-Wednesday: Work goes crazy as everyone pretends we have a normal job while some VIP tours the building, Teriyaki from best place ever for dinner.

-Thursday: Work more monotonous, Teriyaki from best place ever for dinner (it is the best place ever because it is the best Teriyaki on earth. And because everyone who works there is cute). As soon as I finished eating the Teriyaki of Awesomeness (always eaten at home, always shared with Lolo), I felt immediate pain in my Tummy of Not-Quite-Steel. Lolo appeared to be ok. Pain didn't go away. I found my chlorox disinfectant wipes and cleaned the Porcelain Throne, because I knew what was coming. I worshipped that throne. The Tummy of Not-Quite-Steel didn't feel better. There was nothing left in it, but it still was not ok. All night it felt like a sucker punch had been sneaked in when I wasn't looking, mixed with nausea and odd hurty-hurtness.

Friday: I called my Dr first thing in the morning, got in at 9 (hello, 9??? I'm having a tummy emergency damnit!), and he was kinda a douche and said it was textbook Food Poisoning, and it'd go away. No magic pills of wonder, no excuse from work, nothing. Said call back if it didn't go away, never mind that it was Friday, and they're not open weekends. Dr Douche... I go to work, where my supervisor's supervisor sends me home (yea, he's not as big of a douche as we tell everyone he is).

I slept a lot.

I craved more teriyaki. I got uber hungry, and went to the so-not-in-the-same-league-as-to-practically-be-a-different-type-of-food-altogether Teriyaki House. It did not hit the spot, but I did not get violently ill...

On my way home to eat my unpleasant Teriyaki, some douche rear-ended me. I throw up my hands in the universal symbol of What-The-Fuck? and pull into the nearest parking lot when the light turns green. Dumb-shit-rear-ender-man pulls his Volvo in behind me. I make sure my Lolo love is ok (it was a little tap, more annoying than anything), and climb out to check my beastly lil truck.

A dirty looking hippie climbs out of the Volvo to check the damage he inflicted upon his own "car." My lil truck, I am pleased to report, has barely a scratch upon the plastic of it's step-up part of the bumper. Dirty hippie's Volvo has a busted headlight and some unpretty scratches on it's stupid bumper. Score one for Ford!

Dirty hippie claims he "dozed off for a second." I suspect he's more than a little bit high, and just want to get away before I get some sort of dirty contact high from his clothes.

Saturday: I decide that Lolo needs some Dog Park time, since she is driving me crazy with her energy, and she already had a bath Friday, AND joined in my shower that morning... (I swear she's half lab or something. I can't keep this monster out of water). I load everything up in the truck of awesomeness from the passenger side, then cross around the front to jump in, and we're off. ...For 10 feet. ...When I realize something is very wrong. The left rear tire is flatter than your mom's pancake booty.

I put the truck back and proceeded to freak out. I do not have AAA. I do not know how to change a tire, though I do have a spare tire. This is of no help to me, because I do not even have the strength required to open my own bottle of orange juice. At work I alternate who I have open it so the same person does not laugh at me every day.In the midst of my freak-out it was brought up that my insurance might call a tow truck for me. And they did. Apparently a tire change is covered under my towing package. Nice. For future safety, I got myself some AAA as well.

The dudes came and changed my tire, then I took the tire of holeyness and the Lolo of squirmyness to the tire patching place. 2 hours later!!!!! Lolo was actually a very good girl, sat in my lap the whole time. I decided to reward her by going to the Dog Park an hour away. We're there maybe 20 minutes when the Animal Control douche shows up and kicks out every dog who's not wearing their tags. 3 dogs remained... Lolo hates her collar, hates her tags, hates her harness too, but I make her wear that one.

So we went to the second-best Teriyaki house ever and got some din din to go. She's still my good lil angel, and my 3 things of shittiness are done, so my week's now lookin up.

Much love kids.