**edited to remove student related parts**
Today was one of those days at work where all I wanted to do was come home, curl into a ball and drink vodka out of a sippy cup until all my troubles disappeared. For obvious reasons, Dan was the designated decision-maker tonight and he had a better idea. When I got home every candle in the living room was lit and he greeted me at the door with a tube of Burt's Bee's foot cream. And a lovely dinner of beer and taquitos. And control of the remote. My choice was Chappelle's show. I needed a laugh. I tuned in late, though. Just in time to catch the musical guest, *Fat Joe, AKA Fat Joe da Gangsta or Joey Crack He performed a number I eventually found out is called Crush Tonight after spending half the evening searching on Google. I was obsessed, after hearing this little couplet which was Dave Chappelle's parting words to the audience:
Spend that cash dog, drink the Henny and
Freak that bitch like you tryna have a baby
Uh, WHAT...? And by that, you must mean freak that bitch as quickly and conveniently as possible RIGHT NOW whether you feel like it or not. In that room down the hall. Please remember to lock the door behind you. Oh, and the bitch will meet up with you later in Exam Room A. Please abstain for at least three days, but not more than five, beforehand.
So...My day....Well, yesterday in the morning, I got the REALLY bad ovulation pains. The ones that before I knew what they were sent me to the emergency room once. And for those of you who care about these things, yes, he managed to freak the bitch while they were happening. It was real fun. I just bit down on the pillow and tried not to scream. We skipped the Henny, though, seeing as my principal frowns on that. I got dressed etc etc like any other day all bright-eyed and ready to change the world, but every time the car went over the teensiest little bump, I reached for a pillow to bite down on. Dan got all assertive (so cute!) and insisted I not go to work. Usually I'd rather cough up a lung than call a substitute, but I honestly doubt I could have even stood up straight. So, I dropped him off and went back home to sleep it off.
The official story he told everyone was "Joie got sick on the way to work and went home". Simple and sweet. Leaving a lot to the imagination. As it turns out, everyone filled in the details all on their own. No less than four people asked today if I am pregnant, including the boss of all bosses, my boss' boss. I usually am so good at deflecting that question, but she was so sincerely hopeful for me, I wanted to feed her hope with the idea that maybe it will grow and take root and some of it might spread over my way. What a pitiful, unredeemable pleaser I can be...So I said, "Not yet!" and gave her a little smile that said, "Hopefully soon!" Excuse me while I stick my finger down my throat...
*Notice in "Joe Crack's" picture that he is wearing a Portland Trailblazers logo
cap. Nice. What ever happened to the team of Clyde Drexler and Terry
Porter?
Maybe extra painful ovulation= good luck? Either way, I'm hoping you are spared the cost and pain in the ass of IVF :) I'm hoping you get the call from the governor that spares you from execution :D
Posted by: korin | January 11, 2006 at 10:18 AM
Ok - this was positively hilarious. The "freak like you're making a baby bit" was a little too easy for me to relate to...
Posted by: April | January 11, 2006 at 03:43 PM
Ouch ovaries... ouch biters... Hooray husband and foot cream.
Although a sippy cup with vodka in it sounds pretty sweet too.
*crosses fingers* for that ovulation pain producing a positive outcome.
Posted by: cat | January 13, 2006 at 09:00 AM