bed sores and bed buddies.

Add This Sickness to the list of things I'm getting really tired of. Put it right below "My Marriage" but above "Moves Like Jagger".

I am on Day Seven of the black plague and the good news is, my bed sores are coming in nicely. I couldn't be happier with their progress.

I did manage to get some work done today. I made it a whole 3 hours at school before leaving at lunch. That beats my previous 4 day record of zero hours so we're on the up and up here.

I'm not sure what I have. We've ruled out small pox, typhoid, and polio. SARS and Bird Flu are still in the running. Chuck says "How about maybe you just have a nasty case of the flu, which I hear is going around?" Hows abouts that's not dramatic enough and I need something to work with. We're going on eleven years and that guy still does not get me.

Also, speaking of that guy, he is busy "working" during the day time and isn't around to take care of me and that is really bothering me. Here are just some of the injustices I've dealt with the last few days:

1. Pouring my own glass of cranapple juice.
2. Warming up my bowl of spaghetti o's.
3. Fixing my own blanket when it falls off my feet and my piggy toes get cold.

As a teacher, I am a mandatory reporter of child abuse. Obviously, I'll be reporting Chuck for this and don't give me any "I don't think CPS is meant for 29 year olds." Oh, once they get a whiff of my maturity level, they'll take me in.

Good news here. And don't worry, there's good news.

Jack has been an angel throughout my "ordeal" / "dilemma" (whichever is more dramatic to you, use that as my narration of my illness).

He has really gone above and beyond in his care for me.
By above and beyond, I mean moving his daily sleep spot from the tub in our closet to my side on the couch.

Also good news, I've had my iPhone by my side and have been able to capture some truly adorable Jack sleeping pictures. Feel free to use the term "angel", "cherub", and "love of my life" whilst viewing these precious works of photographic art.

This is what we refer to as a Crescent Moon Cat with an upside down face.
Also, FYI, The Allisons are what we refer to as "Those People."

Here we have a basic hook paw cat.

An upside down holding his face cat. One of my personal favorites. I am sorry, but that face is adorable and he is holding it which makes it 50 times more adorable.

This is a full upside down cat with a belly showing.
I'm not sure if I made this clear enough, but I'm not making these names up. After six years of catparenthood, this is how Chuck and I speak to each other in reference to Jack's sleeping positions. And this? Please. Tip of the iceberg.

There are no words to describe him here. He is literally the love of my life. (I wrote that line in the same voice Rob Lowe uses in Parks and Rec. You either get it or your don't).
Just so you know, he has remained by me the entire time I've been typing. And moaning. Did I mention the moaning? When he sleeps, he groans. Like an old man. Ol' sleep cat.

I'm hoping to make it all the way through tomorrow without watching a single Law and Order episode on USA (character's welcome) and spending more time in street clothes than pajamas. These are my goals. Jack's goals are similar, and of course, no they aren't. He'll just move back to the tub in the closet without me and go back to his moaning.

i still love them.

Tonight, The Pioneer Woman is in Seattle.

Two years ago I waited in line four hours for the glorious moment when we would meet, exchange BFF necklaces, and our love would blossom. We didn't meet. I had to leave for a school function and it was devastating. I have literally never gotten over it.

A few months ago, PW announced her newest cookbook was arriving and banner news, she was returning to Seattle. I was overjoyed. Finally. Finally we could meet, hug, and sing "Reunited and it feels so good" even though we've never met.

Am I going too far?
How likely is a restraining order?
How close am I coming? Be honest. Pretty close? I feel it too. I'll just keep walking that fine line between fan and crazy town. It's gonna be a challenge.

My friend Stephanie, who is as PW-centric as I am, did the leg work on getting our PW book signing night rolling. She's a gem. She bought the books, got the tickets, and coordinated the night. I was so close to meeting PW I could taste it and her famous cinnamon rolls - which are little gifts from heavy and you should make them immediately.

And then, the sickness came.

It's been going around my classroom like you wouldn't believe. Whole friend groups taken down over the course of last week. About 2/3 of my class ended up with it and I was about to do a party dance for myself and the other 1/3 because it looked like we had made it.

Then I woke up today.

And yada yada yada, yet another failed BFF opportunity for PW and me. I'm this close to posting a missed connection ad for the two of us on Craigslist because this is getting ridiculous.

I still love those kids though, I'll tell you that. I thought about gutting it out and going tonight, but the thought of getting sicker and missing our field trip later this week was enough to keep me home in an SVU marathon.

I love them.
Even if they cost me PW.

I mean, how could you not love them?

Doesn't this picture kind of make you want to die?
It's maybe my favorite picture I've ever taken. I think I've said that before. Well now I really mean it.

apparently, we have different definitions.

I said yesterday I knew what I was posting today, and I'll be honest. This is probably the last thing I should blog. I've spent 24 hours trying to talk myself into blogging something else. Anything else.

Really, it's just an OK story, but I think the picture is pretty good.
Wow. I must have you super psyched about this post. What a set up. You must be so interested by now. I know I am...

Alright let's do this.

Last week, I'm earning my nightly bed sores on the couch watching god-knows-what on my DVR and obviously loving life. Angel cat was snuggling with me and we were having a time. At some point, I was rubbing my eyes and I guess I scratched my eyelid with a jagged fingernail. I believe I was doing some light nail nibbling pre the eye rubbing. Don't judge me.

My eye lid started to feel a little stingy and a lot of weird. Weird. It just felt weird. Weird enough for me to get my fat you-know-what off the couch to walk the excruciating 20 feet to the bathroom? Heck no. My show was on and it's not like I can pause that thing or rewind it...

Chuck comes home and I say "Does my eye look weird?"

Please to remember that micro conversation.

Chuck would later say the lighting was bad. He couldn't quite see. I say maybe his BS was in his eyes because no way. What I looked like could've been seen from space. No hyperbole.

I unglued myself from the bed.
Walked to the bathroom.
Looked in the mirror.
And died.

This is what I looked like.

Couple of things.
1. Don't let my beauty startle you.

Nope. Just that. I don't want to startle you. I'm worried about your heart. That picture is for sure SOOi (straight out of iPhone) and is the best picture of my life.

Why I am posting this picture - beyond me. I guess that's just me right now. Caution. Wind. You get it. If you fold back the swollen tufts of eyelid, there was about an inch long scratch running across my eyelid. Obviously, I wore glasses to school the next day. I didn't want to anger it.

What I truly love is the micro conversation in which Chuck said I looked completely normal and totally fine. Like I said in the title. Apparently, we have different definitions of normal.

i'm sorry?

Ok so maybe going on a blog-a-thon in February followed by two months of the silent treatment was a tad mean. Maybe not my finest hour.

In my defense, this whole not blogging thing kind of became like the Pee Game after a few weeks. Obviously you know the pee game, when you see how long you can hold it before you have to. Chuck and I have different philosophies on the ending of this game. I say, you lose everytime (unless you are willing to commit to, you know) and Chuck says you always win because you always get that sweet "I really had to go" moment of satisfaction. (Feel free to weigh in on this.) (Also, feel free to not judge us or our marriage.)

Basically I feel like I'm saying this all the time on this blog, and if I could explain it better or in more detail I would, but sometimes I just can't do this. Then sometimes I can. Then other times it's too much. 

But I'm just gonna try.

So, here's what's happened in the last two months that you've missed.

I turned 29 and am officially holding a year long funeral for my youth.
I saw the Hunger Games three times in 2 weeks and am about due for Round 4.
I watched all three seasons of Vampire Diaries in about 2 weeks.
I then wondered why I never watched Vampire Diaries before and feel like I've wasted a lot of my life.

Truth time. I am literally struggling to find more things I've done in the last 2 months to add to this list and beyond giving Lucy her first side-pony with a bow, I'm tapped out. I have stared at this list for about 15 minutes and cannot come up with anything else. This is what I'm working with and you wonder where I've been. You should probably be glad I just left.

BUT. Good news. I do have some thoughts for the week.

I'm going to the PW book signing on Tuesday and maybe that'll actually work out for me this time. And on Sunday my family is holding our annual Easter Egg Olympics. I know it's a tad late but that's because Fe and PK were in Hawaii during real Easter and they might as well have shot the Easter Bunny by not being home. So, so hurtful.

I'm going to give this another shot... again.

Fingers crossed. And also lots of validation has always worked wonders with me. I mean lots. Constant validation. You're pretty. I missed you. These are just possible comments. Ideas. Blue prints, if you will.

See you tomorrow.
I already have an idea...

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