Lady Luck is pissing in my pond.

If lady bugs are supposed to be lucky, are they holding a conference in my kitchen right now to decide on how much luck I actually get? Must they crawl through the cracks in the window sills, and just 'hang out' on any unsuspecting glass just sitting on the counter? Or dive bomb me, Pearl Harbor- style, as I walk up my stairs? Anywho, just have your little meeting while I sit here wondering how long it will be before you decide to join my food on the stove & spoil a perfectly good meal.

Did you ever have a ladybug in your glass or food & not notice it until you TASTED it?? OOOhhh, it is all sorts of EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!

Did I mention that Dylan used to be TERRIFIED of lady bugs as a kid? TERRIFIED!! Of Ladybugs!!

:Warning--> Topic change <--ahead:

Moving right along. So here I sit, heating pad attached firmly to my ass & shooting pain straight down my left leg. I've got a big glass of water [quart mason jars are the only water glasses big enough for me], 2 books on yoga & various poses for optimum health, and a healthy respect for pain medicines.

Case in point: Last week [?] I was having some major wrist irritation. Irritation turned to pain, pain turned into throbbing the moment I woke up. So after much deliberation, I decided to take some pain meds that I had leftover from when I had Jack. Its 1030ish by the time I've made this decision. I've gone about my normal morning routine: get some coffee, feed the boy, get more coffee, put the boy down for a nap, facebook/internets. Did you see breakfast? Yea, its not in there. The moment I opened the hatch & let the liquid slide down my throat I could feel it hit my stomach, and looking around, saying- "Nothing's here! Time to par-tay!!" Holy fucking hell, batman. So I, like an idiot, decide upon getting something into my stomach. 'A bowl of cereal should be sufficient.', I think to myself. Apparently I'm already high by this point, because I decided upon Crispix, which has about as much substance as Chex. Yea, there isn't any!!! I'm good for oh, about an hour, & then I really feel it kick in. Apparently the medicine brought friends & turned my stomach into a mosh pit! I decide to lay down. Cancel the afternoon plans with girlfriends. Jack is napping at this point, so he's safe. He wakes up. Shit. I'll be okay.. just stay close to the ground. Which I do... until he needs to eat. I fix him his baby mush & container of peas... & as I am holding the peas at arms length away from my face, I realize there is no way in fucking hell I can do this. Cue the reinforcements. Fredward wasn't going to be home until 530 at the earliest & all of my neighbors were gone. [Yes, I know they were gone, because I can see their driveways from my house. No cars = no neighbors.] I called my mom, with the highest of hopes [shut up] that she would be home early. She said she'd be off work in an hour. I can hold it together that long, just PLEASE COME GET THE BOY. She arrives to find me in Dylan's bed, blankets over my head & nauseated as all hell, trying to get Jack to get some sleep in his bed. My strategy clearly wasn't working so she scoops him up & takes him home with her for a few hours. Dylan is home by this point! He's pretty self-sufficient, & declined the offer to go to Gramma's for a couple of hours. He kept an eye on me & answered the phone when Fredward called.

Moral: 1 dose = 1 Tbsp of that shit-also-known-as-liquid-hydrocodone can really, really fuck you up. Don't do it, kids. Ever. I was useless all damn day & night because of it. When I spoke to my mom the next day [she called to check in on me- thanks mom!] I told her I had thought about dumping the contents of the bottle & tossing it out as soon as the thought of that shit stopped making me nauseated.

Returning to the heating pad on my ass. Tylenol doesn't do a damn thing for sciatic pain. I nearly threw out my back today [getting dressed! who knew?!!] & as a result am in some serious pain.

:Blows on the dice in my hand, then tosses out:

Come on, lady luck. Shine on me. I've got an art show to prepare for. I'd really like to wake up tomorrow with no back issues please. Is that so much to ask?