Possums, Turtles and Virtual Ferguson

Due to the sympathetic nature of the scheduling gods, I only had to actually work two days this past week. Monday I made my six month visit to the rheumatologist, Dr. Purdyeyes. It went well in the beginning. Doc Purdy told me that after comparing the something something levels in my bloodwork from before I began taking colchicine to now, he was confident that FMF was an accurate diagnosis and that as long as I continued taking it as prescribed (and not forgetting) things should be fine and maybe even continue to get better. I have to keep going back every six months so they can make sure the drug isn't building up in my system, but other than that it's going to be smooth sailing.. almost.

I asked him about my gargantuan ankle swelling up like a elephant's and somehow we got into a discussion about aging, support hose, thigh highs and the probability of my ever wearing a garter belt. This made me uncomfortable because, up until this stage in my life, any discussion involving garter belts was one of a sexual nature and not with a physician which I have the sorta hots for. It was all very confusing. I've been scarred. I don't ever want to have that talk again.

Dr. Purdyeyes made a HUGE deal about my quitting smoking, discounted the weight I've gained since as no big deal and repeatedly gave me kudos. I was right damned proud of myself by the time I got out of there. Hoo-rah.

Tuesday and Wednesday I worked and scrambled to get things done. Bubbles continued to laugh sadistically, like Elmo on angel dust and Bossman grumbled around, slammed his door and appeared to be pouting. Sales are down. Thursday I had to leave the house an hour early and drive over into the next county, meet Rosie from work then ride with her to another of our locations in Asheville for AED/CPR re certification. I was NOT looking forward to it, other than it meant a day away from the office with pay. But when we arrived, I gained a whole new perspective on the situation at hand. The instructor was a cutie patootie. A hawtie. A fine hunk o' man meat.

Things were looking up.

I giggled, sighed and batted my eyes for the entire class. It takes a lot for someone to have that effect on me. He looked a bit like a cross between Barry Manilow, Dennis DeYoung (Styx) and the dad from Family Ties.

We finished the class by noon. The lady who was riding with us threatened to go back to work, so instead of going back to our cars, we went to EarthFare (the organic grocery) then to Sam's Club. Had she gone back to work for the rest of the day, Rosie and I would have had a hard time explaining why we didn't.

I took a long nap when I got home yesterday. I guess getting up an hour earlier then trying like hell to rescue that damned dummy from cardiac arrest with CPR, then from choking, then from another apparent heart attack with the AED.. made me a little tired. I've decided that no matter how bad a day I may have, it won't be as bad a day as that dummy was having yesterday. I was ready to suggest shooting it to put it out of it's misery. Oh and when we covered the "Blood Born Pathogen" portion of the class and Mr. Goodgawdalmightyhe'sfine asked "What is the best way to prevent exposure to pathogens while administering emergency care?" Rosie answered, "I'm calling Mahala and not getting involved."


On the drive to EarthFare, I mentioned that portion of the class to Rosie (our Human Resources Manager by the way) and pointed out that when recently, a man on second shift got in a fight with his wife in the parking lot during his break, which resulted in his being drug across the parking lot with her vehicle and run over and his being airlifted by helicopter to the hospital, his ripped up, bloody clothing was kept in a brown paper bag in the corner of Festus' office.

Not exactly a good bio hazard containment practice.


So I was pretty tired when I got home, took a long nap and then I was up for the duration. The littlest dog drove me nuts wanting outside all night. I figured that Dubya's (our neighbor.. I'll have to tell all you new readers about him some day) daughter's dog.. praaaaaaaaaaaaaayshus... must be in heat again. I'd let him out and he'd bark and bark like crazy until I couldn't stand it any more, then I'd go go out on the steps and threaten him with all sorts of horrible acts to get him to come inside. The last time I let him out, both he and Ozzy were raising holy hell out there, barking and growling and carrying on. I tried in vain to get him to come in, he'd have no part of it at all. I finally gave in and ventured outside, wearing nothing but a tee shirt, my granny panties and some house shoes. There's a embankment behind the house, no neighbors can see into the dog lot.. At least I hope not. I was carrying a cup of dog food so I could go ahead and feed Ozzy while I was out there, thinking I'd just scoop Yoda up with my free hand.

We all know how my plans work out.

So I go out there, forgetting the massive COLD FRONT that is moving through our area. It was just a tad bit nipply out there. Yoda is standing in a Kujo stance (which is kinda funny under normal circumstances) inches from the fence, all hair on his body standing straight up. As I leaned down to pick him up, I became face to face with a very pissed off possum, about twice Yoda's size, just on the other side of the fence. His teeth were bared and he was hissing like a cobra.

Rut roh.

I grabbed Yoda, dropping the dog food, suddenly realizing that if that thing decided to come after the little loud mouthed chit, it would eat him alive. I ran back to the house, in the dark, in my house shoes, my granny panty clad ass shining in the moonlight. I was a sight to behold I'm sure. I tossed the still growling Yoda in the house, then walked back over to the cup of dog food. I still needed to feed Ozzy. I leaned down and picked up the cup, with most of the food still inside. I glanced over towards the fence. The evil possum was still there, still baring his teeth, still hissing. I thought.. what an ungrateful little cuss. I know he's been getting in my garbage. The least he could do is be thankful that he gets a free meal occasionally. I carefully opened Ozzy's pen to feed him and of course, he made a run for it. Straight to the possum. Within seconds, Ozzy had worked himself into a tizzy with the stupid possum still hissing and growling. Now.. Ozzy is a far cry from a chihuahuaranian. At about 85 pounds, it was with a bit more difficulty that I drug him back to his dog lot, using both hands on his collar and a few select four letter words. In a tee shirt. And my granny panties. And some house shoes. At around 1 a.m.

I was thankful that I was off today and looking forward to sleeping in. What with the the doctor's appointment and the garter belts, the CPR dummy and the possum-crazy-dog 'rasslin', I felt I was due. Imagine my JOY at the sound of my aunt and her lawn mower, bright and early at the butt crack of dawn. There was a bright spot however, when she came running into the house to tell me that she and her lawnmower had been accosted by a renegade turtle. Apparently she got a little too close to his personal space and he decided to take action. Ma told her it was probably mating season and to take that damn ball cap off her head.

Never a dull moment.

Some of ya'll may remember in a past post my joking around about putting a shrine to Craig Ferguson in my Second Life business venture, a virtual house of ill repute. Well, I shared my blogsite with one of my friends there, something I don't do freely and he read that particular post. When I logged on yesterday there was a gift waiting for me, a picture of the Fergburger himself. So after some consideration, I decided to do this....

This is the welcome area of my little hourly rental property on Second Life and that's my foxy little avatar. Now Craig Ferguson has a presence in virtual reality. Knowing his love of technology, his skin would probably crawl with disgust if he knew.


I'm not sure if I'll leave it up, but for the time being, it makes me giggle. It's just cheesy enough to be amusing.

Wow, this is like.. the longest post I've written in forever. I'd better get off my big ol' hiney and get some work done.

Happy Good Friday ya'll.

Be blessed.


aka_Meritt said...

I just had a vision of Dubya and the Two-dollar ho on the internet writing on THEIR blog about their crazy neighbor in her t-shirt and granny panties fighting with a possum at 1:am.

Hmmmmm... if I come across their blog someday with THEIR version of living next to you I'm gonna laugh my butt off.

kenju said...

I AM Blessed - by having read this hilarious post!

Now I want to know how you avoid germs during CPR?

Travel said...

You are brilliant. I to want to read the neighbors blogg.


AC said...

I love your long posts...the short ones too. I never leave in a sour mood.

We have an earth fare and a Sams -- could you have been in my neck of the woods?

Tori Lennox said...

ROFL!!! Lordy, I have missed your posts!!!

Loner said...

Well, that image of dog wrasslin in your t-shirt and undies - uh, I've done that - recently - only it was over a stray dog trying to get at the chickens. And I love it when you have long posts too - tehy always make me laugh!

Bert said...

I have no concept of going into a doctors and discussing garters. I also find your use of the word `nipply' mildy unsettling.
Talking of neighbouring animals, apprently we have a man-eating cat moved in next door.