I'm So Over December

Well, it’s been an… interesting week. Eventful, at least. First, we took The Funasaurus’ car in last Thursday because it was making funny noises. We got an estimate back for about 20 cents less than what we still owe on it. We decided to go ahead and get the work done, The Funasaurus needs a car, after all, but we ended up maxing three separate credit cards out.

If I’m going to do that, I’d much prefer to do it at Nordstroms, than a damn car dealership. But life doesn’t always go my way.

Nay, actually, life has been going rather THE OPPOSITE of “my way,” recently.

On Monday The Funasaurus got more sick than I have ever seen him, puking his little Funasaurus guts out all day long. He normally has a nice olive complexion. But on Monday he was closer to a shade of “blank piece of copier paper.” We were pretty sure it was food poisoning as opposed to a virus, seeing as how The Funasaurus has an immune system stronger than Fort Knox, whereas I tend to get any germ within a forty mile radius, and mutate it into the most extreme, disgusting, painful variation for about twice as long as it’s supposed to last.

When The Funasaurus is that ill, and I am doing the Claustrophobic Dance (you know, the bad hippity hop, too much energy-thing) around the living room, we were sure it had to have been something he ate. The only thing is, The Funasaurus and I had eaten together all weekend. So we couldn’t figure out what it could be.

He was feeling better on Tuesday, but on the off-chance it was, somehow, freakishly a 24-hour flu that I had not contracted, we decided not to go to the big family gathering for Christmas. My parents went and repped for the Golashes side of the family, and apparently The Funasaurus’ aunt and uncle put on quite the spread, complete with three separate kinds of homemade pies.

I love pie.

They brought us ham and green beans as leftovers.

I think they hate us.

Anywhos, we went back to work yesterday, and I slid on some black ice on the highway and managed to control my car enough as it fishtailed to avoid hitting the car in front of me and slam into the concrete median, instead.

So now I have a nice little bump on my head, and fucking 3/4 of a car left. The remaining chunk of car is now in my backseat. Happily, the car still runs, so I was able to drive off the damn highway and get to work. Sadly, I am now missing a huge piece of the fender, a headlight, and, oddly enough, the ability to spray my windshield. (Although the wipers still work.)

We picked up The Funasaurus’ car in the afternoon, and it began shimmying on our way home. We called right away, but they didn’t call us back for half an hour. At which point the shimmying had gotten worse, and all the service techs had conveniently gone home for the day.

Sure am glad we maxed out those credit cards.

We figured that was THREE, though, between The Funasaurus’ car, missing Christmas, and my accident.

Naturally, as soon as I went to bed, I began puking my guts out and shivering like a puppy at the vet’s. So I spent the night moaning and keeping The Funasaurus up with my bi-minutely trips to the bathroom.

It was the 24-hour flu, after all.

This morning the snow continued to fall, as The Funasaurus took his car back down to the dealership, shimmying and shaking down the same highway that I slid on, yesterday.

Here’s hoping these things happen in fours, now, and we’ve already filled our quotient for the year.

Love,
Princess Rainbows and Sunshine