Yesterday I got my new passport in the mail. It came with a brochure that gave you all sorts of info (sign the stupid thing in pen, put your address and ER contact in pencil, don’t lose it moron), and on the back of the pamphlet there is a handy Influenza Pandemic blurb complete with web site... um, do influenza pandemics break out all over the world without my knowledge or was this just a wacky coincidence that there’s one going on right now?
After Wii cardio kicked my butt, I got out of the house to run my friday chores. Had to pick up a refill on the beautiful Chantix (I admit dear Chantix, I did take three puffs from a menthol cig the other day, then spent the next hour dry heaving... I’ve learned (sigh) yes I have), which required me to go to a drugstore... during a pandemic... sonofa...
Yep, you betcha. Despite the fact that all of 8 people in Maryland HAD what they suspect was swine flu (but have recovered without hospitalization and absolutely no bad mojo) and are STILL waiting for the official results, and despite the fact that the Governor has convened a “Swine Flu Advisory Board” (cha ching, taxpayer money go flush), there was someone in the pharmacy drive through window screaming at the technician that they wanted FIVE packs of paper masks and why can’t she go get the Tami-flu stuff from the store and bring it to her. I laughed. I laughed harder when the tech said “ma’am, you have your paper mask, come into the store and get it yourself, this is the window for prescriptions”. I hear they closed a school... the horses must still be in their barn there.
Speaking of horses, I’ve decided that on my resume I’m going to put that I own two horse racing tracks, several banks and 2 car manufacturers.
After the terror of the swine flu pharmacy visit, I went to eat at a spot that we call the “usual friday lunch spot”. We loved this place, just opened, the bartender is fantastic, food is fantastic, service is fantastic, prices are pretty good, but its a comfortable place to go. Except that apparently bartender is no longer there, service sucks, the food is going downhill, and the waiter actually hounded our party to look over timeshare pamphlets from his second job. Um... so much for the “usual friday lunch spot”.
Icky is driving up so we can Thelma and Louise all weekend. This, of course, meant that the home alarm system went bat shit and started beeping wildly. Apparently the back up battery is dying, as batteries tend to do. The helpful help guy that I called said we can just go out and get another, we only have to wrap some wires on the thing and... um, F that, I pay for a maintenance agreement so
a.) why didn’t someone call and tell me “hey, your battery is old, better replace it, and
b.) I pay a maintenance agreement, get one of your techs out to do it
So, monday from 8am until the third of 2010, a technician will be out. Great. In the meantime we can expect the random beeping of the ”battery is dying“ thing... hey, we didn’t want to leave the house this weekend anyway, really... f’ers.
I think that Icky and I will go buy some $540 sneakers and go help out at a homeless shelter... ok, screw that, I’m wearing 2 year old chucks that I got on sale for $15 and going to a thrift store. What says ”F YOU“ better than wearing $540 sneakers at a food bank as you hand out some cake. I take my three dogs out at 5 a.m. and feed them every morning (before going to a full time job) and I do it in a pair of Walmart knock off sneakers... because cleaning poop off of Lanvin and Gucci is just too much work. My all time favorite quote is: “They’re shoes,” the First Lady’s reps sniffed when curious reporters inquired about the fancy footwear.“ Um... you want us to tighten our belts while you blow money on $540 shoes, fly Air Force One and scare the shit out of New York, and the myriad of other ways you shovel OUR money out the door... hello, media? Sara Palin wardrobe frenzy and yet here... nothing?