You Know What Really Grinds My Gears??

Why is it you always come back from a fabulously long weekend/holiday refreshed for approx. 15 seconds and then BAM! Someone says your hair is green?

Alarm goes off at 6a as usual. I get ready, drive to work, sit at my desk and start reading through my emails from the previous few days. The church is eerily quiet (and dark!) at 7a, I am usually here with one or two of the maintenance staff and that's it. It's one of my favorite times of the day. One of the "mighty men of maintenance" comes to my office door and states, "Well you got some sun this weekend." I reply, "Yep, sure did." Awkward pause. Then the loud mouth continues... "And someone sure bleached your hair." I reply, "Yep, they sure did." (I knew going platinum would come back to bite me...) Awkward pause. "It looks green." I say, "I'm sorry, what?" He replies, "It looks green. Your hair (points to head)--it looks green." Me: "Oh. Well, it's not really supposed to look um... green." Awkward pause. I give him the, "Welp, it was good to see you" look and he moves closer. Really close. 2 feet away now and stares at my hair. "Yep... definitely green." So I half laugh and say, "Uh.. you're starting to make me feel really uncomfortable." Does he leave? No, he stands there for another 120 seconds and then finally moseys out the door.

Are you serious?! I immediately go to the bathroom and check my hair. And guess what folks? It is NOT green. Rude. RUDE!!

But don't worry, that's merely the beginning. I go to the doctor around 10a because I haven't been feeling too fabulous (please see "smell the barf" in previous entry). The nurse puts the blood pressure thing on my arm and it keeps sliding down towards my elbow. I try to move it and the nurse says, "Don't worry, once this thing gets going it gets REALLY tight." So I quit fidgeting and it starts to expand... and expand... and oh my God my arm is turning purple. I start feeliing a little sick because I can feel the blood pumping (which is directly related to VEINS--eeeck!). Then she pauses and says, "Oh, that's too bad. It didn't work. Let's do it again." So my poor arm gets a second dose of pain. She finally gets my blood pressure and takes the dumb thing off me. We both stare at my arm because there is a 5 inch band that is now blood red. She and I both start rubbing the little guy to bring it back to life.

I talk to the doc, take the script to Walgreens and it's back to work. After my 1 hour wait, I return to Walgreens to pick up my meds. The line at Walgreens is incredibly slow and during the entire wait my eyes keep diverting to the Sonic directly across the street. Suddenly I HEAR my stomach grumble, "Mmmmm, Macaroni Bites." I decide after the trauma of my green hair and red arm (Meeerry Christmas everyone!), I deserve some fried goodness. I pick up my meds and find out they only cost $4. What is this, 1967? Medicine that is guaranteed to bring me back to life costs the same as a gallon of gas! I drive towards deliciousness. I pull in. I push the button. They ask for my order. I respond. And then those terrible words that I knew, just KNEW would eventually haunt me come blaring back:

"We are psssshhh macaroni bites."

Stupid interference, I could have sworn he just said... Wait.. Hmm. Context clues...

He notices my long pause and repeats. "We are OUT of macaroni bites." (And yes, this conversation also made me think of poor George Stanley Banks and the classic line, "Noooo... noo! It's TWO hundred and fifty a head...")

You have GOT to be kidding me. Ugh. What a sad, unfulfilling, self-confidence shot, painful day. We have friends visiting us tonite and I am counting on them to bring me back to life, because right now the medicine alone doesn't stand a chance.

RIP macaroni bites. RIP...