|the pre-polyp face|
After an hour at urgent care, I fled to Target clutching my prednisone prescription in my sadly dried out hands (nts apply lotion more often). Now I sit in the tiny bedroom typing up this tiny saga on my makeshift laptop desk as the mister tears apart our not-so-borrowed sofa so that he can recover it in the pile of clashing tablecloths I tossed on the floor yesterday morning. He's struggling with the upholstery staples and his form of cussing is pickled with quaint old fashioned interjections amongst ballsy cuss words. I've downed half my dosage of the awful steroids but am quite content to ride the instant placebo effects. I've been drinking cool water from a non-vintage mason jar in between popping American smarties into my mouth as a really sweet breeze flicks my hair into my cheek causing a tickle that is at once delightful (the breeze) and exasperating (the tickle).
Errands have been erranded, dishes have been washed and fabric has been gathered both for my project and the mister's. Yesterday as we discussed which fabrics to use, the mister hit the floor laughing at my concern the tablecloths would clash with the back cushion that I had created from non-matching vintage pillowcases. I was astounded at his reaction and could not fathom what was so amusing. Even when he managed to stop laughing enough to point at the pile of clashing tablecloths and then the assortment of pillowcases in the cushion I remained confused. Yes, they all clash but the tablecloth pile has more vibrance to it with a fabric that soaks up color and light while the pillowcases are of a light and airy vintage that reflects light and color. He just doesn't get it. What? Stop laughing! I'm totally serious.
I dressed quickly out of my pajamas to get to the urgent care and ended up in too short jeans to go with sneakers unless I opted out of socks (and yes, I am aware I have an odd sense of style now sshh) but my sadly stressed out body has effected my swollen Flintstone feet so sockless was not an option. I grabbed the first pair of socks my fingers touched as I reached into the darkened closet. It wasn't until I sat in the waiting room I realized rainbow stripes were hardly non-descript and that the sock on my right foot was on inside-out. How's that for class.
Tomorrow we're taking the mamas in the family out to tea and who knows what else. Monday I am putting on the teacher's hat to teach the wee toddlers at my school and Tuesday involves all sorts of catch up and errands and appointments. Today I will sit on the bed and look at all the eye candy the internet has to offer in between bouts of reading as the sweet cool breeze continues to tickle the heck out of me.