Walking with Nora

Surely this isn’t a new theory but based upon the events that have taken place in the last seven days, I’m pretty sure that full moons/Friday the 13th effect the entire week before their occurrence.

I am superstitious to a point: I hold my breath when I drive past cemeteries so the spirits don’t take over my body, I don’t walk under ladders, never open an umbrella in my home and I always make every concerted effort to “make a wish,” with any eyelashes that may have fallen onto my cheek. But Friday the 13th? I usually laugh at it. And full moons? They just light up the sky nicely. Until last Saturday, that is.

I briefly alluded to the ridiculousness in my life that started after my blogging hiatus which could perhaps be attributed to the Blogging Gods being furious with my absence, though I doubt it. Here’s a rundown, with as much huor as is possible:

• Saturday morning my dear dog Jack decided that it was time for him to spew from both ends which is a) not a lovely way to wake up, b) incredibly disgusting c) nearly impossible to get rid of the stink and d) makes your neighbors in the apartment building angry with you. I have no idea what Jack got into, when he did or why he did, but the poor little guy was running in and out of the apartment building with me ever 20 minutes for a good two hours, and throwing up in between. Fortunately I have hard wood floors in my apartment… the hallway, however, not so much. Poor Jack lost his cookies on one of our runs out the door which left me in a non-ventilated hallway to deal with the mess. Irish was throwing me paper towels and trash bags, Jack was on the balcony cowering because he thought I was mad (I so was not), and I was feverishly cleaning up, de-staining, de-odorizing (which I did all weekend) so my neighbors wouldn’t go ballistic on me. (Of course my priority was him getting healthy and he is fine. He slept all afternoon like a sick child would, his head in my lap and he’s been fine ever since) Didn’t work because…
• Tuesday. Busy day at the office. My landlord calls and I sincerely hoped was an update on the most bizarre fly infestation that seems to have made their way into my sunroom. Boy was I wrong. “Nora, we have complaints of a smell in the hallway. It’s on the third floor and you know the place across from you is vacant. My crew tells me there is (Such and such) kind of stain. I’m going to have to charge you for carpet cleaning.” I am not disputing the fact that I should have to pay for anything but I did clean/deodorize and de-stain four times. And trust me, it’s gone. Why did this upset me so much? Up until this point I had no neighbor troubles, my landlord thought I was awesome and I felt embarassed (it’s how I’m wired). I’m hiding out at Irish’s for the next four days.
• Jump back to Saturday night. A great double date planned with Irish’s best friend and his gal for dinner and the experience that is the Roller Derby. Due to my insane allergies I have to choose restaurants carefully, wisely and order cautiously when I’m out. The Japanese Steak House waitress assured me that I could eat their food after I rattled off a list of my allergies, left the vegetables out of my food and that sesame seeds weren’t in the dishes I ordered. Unfortunately no vegetables but sesame seeds everywhere. Cue red rash on face, light-headed feeling and rash on my body which is just now FINALLY gone. Also cue everone’s panic at the table which is completely sweet but embarasses me to no end. I’m starting to feel like I can’t go out for fear of a near-death experience. Fortunately two potent benadyrls and at least a gallon of water later, I knew there wasn’t going to be any hospital trip. Just a really itchy night. (Roller Derby deserves a post all to itself.)
• You already know about Wednesday night. Certainly not a bad evening but it was just bizarre and of course I hoped with all my might that Irish wasn’t totally freaked out by the conversation. I mean, we talk about serious things between the two of us, but it’s a whole new ball game when it happens in a social setting in front of the friends. And then last night, out with some of Irish’s friends, they accidentally call me his wife. As far as I’m concerend we have both been embarassed by our friends, so it’s “even.” I wonder how many shades of red I turned yesterday when they called me his “wife?”

Also this week: a friend of mine was dumped, another lost her job and everyone just seemed a bit “off “from their normal personality not to mention insane work questions/co-workers and clients. Worse than usual. I mean, when you’re living life a certain amount of absurdity comes your way but it’s like someone threw a fistful of absurdity at me this week. Twice.

I have no choice but to attribute weeks like this on the moon/Friday the 13th. I also have no choice but to laugh because since Jack is fine, I’m paying for the damages without a fight, sesame seeds didn’t exact the revenge they had hoped to on me and because Irish and I are still together and stronger than ever, the joke is on the moon. We all came out alive, healthier, stronger and smiling.