I Have the Dropsy
I have the Dropsy today. Not that obscure old-lady disease that I
never understood. What my Hillbilly Husband refers to as the
Dropsy. The condition of dropping things like there's no tomorrow.
It started at 4:20 this morning, my usual wake-up time. I dropped
a Wal-mart big little sandwich as I was getting it out of the fridge.
It was still in the wrapper, still suited for #1 son's lunch bag. Not
all of it. He's not a professional eater. I cut that long little sandwich
into fourths, and get four days of lunch out of it. Duh!
Next, I dropped my cell phone in a cup of water. Not intentionally.
This was without a doubt the worst drop of the day. I had set the
water on the kitchen counter, after drinking about a third of it with
my first pill of the day. I drink the rest as I am packing the lunches.
I noticed that my cell could use a little quality time on the charger,
plugged in the charger, and picked up the phone out of my purse.
(Don't ask why I'd put it back in the purse after seeing that it
needed a charge. It must be that groggy just-woke-up condition
that's as bad as being drunk, which I read about yesterday in the
USA Today.) I hate that phone. It is too small and smooth and
hard to hold onto. Oh, the bad luck! It slipped out of my hand right
over that cup of water. It didn't so much fall into the cup as it
dropped in, hit the side, and turned the cup over. I also managed to
drown a Gameboy Advance and two GameBoy DS thingies that
had been charging overnight. Of course there was only one select-
a-size paper towel left on the roll, so I had to open a new pack.
I dropped the lid off the cookie container as I finished making
the lunches. I dropped a dirty sock from the pile I carried to the
laundry room. I dropped a tampon into the bathtub. Oh, it was
still in the wrapper, and the tub was dry. Don't worry about me
soaking up all of the bath water with it. I'm a shower kind of gal.
It must be a home issue. I didn't drop anything at school. But as
I was making supper, I dropped that roll of paper towels trying
to put them on my paper towel holder. They didn't unroll very
much. Then I dropped a serving spoon as I was putting away the
clean dishes from the dish drainer. Shh...I put it into the drawer
anyway. Nobody will know.
That is the tally so far. NEWS FLASH! At 8:17 p.m., add two
socks as I moved the wet clothes from the washer to the dryer.
I don't want to think about what might happen tomorrow.
Friday the Thirteenth. My phone doesn't want to know either.
*************************************************
Because that old Mabel will complain that this post was not
satisfying AGAIN, I will write a little more. It's not good stuff. It's
gagging stuff. Literally. Do not read if you have a weak stomach.
I watched that Intervention show again Sunday night. This week's
addictions were food and heroin.
The food addict was bulimic. Nasty. Here was her routine. She
would eat a bunch of stuff, like at a breakfast buffet, or a dozen
donuts, or a pizza buffet dinner, and then vomit in secret. Yes, I
know that's the definition of bulimia. But she didn't just go into the
bathroom to do her vomiting. She used a toothbrush to gag herself
into vomiting, then vomited into gallon ziploc baggies. Eewww!
She did this in the garage, or her closet, and stashed the bags of
vomit behind her shoes, under her hanging clothes. At the end of
the week, she picked up all the bags and took them to a dumpster
at some business. Yuck! Smarten up, missy, and get fat like all
the rest of us.
The other guy was not so interesting. He was a gay who shot
heroin and had anonymous sex about 20 times a night to get drugs
or money. Oh, and he tested positive for AIDS shortly after he
entered treatment. Same old stuff.
Oh, and I also watched the Discovery Health Channel off and on,
to see the Half Ton Man. By the time I tuned in, he was down to
600-something pounds. Bummer. They interviewed his wife or
mother (sad that I couldn't tell which) about his food intake. From
off camera, he sniped that he didn't eat any more than a normal
person. During his voice-over, the camera panned around to show
pizza boxes sticking out of the trash, and all other sorts of evidence
that he could really strap on the old feedbag. He sounded like "The
Bubble Boy" on Seinfeld, when BB argued with George in that
pissy way over the Trivial Pursuit card that should have said
"Moors" but was printed "Moops."
That's all I've got tonight, Mabel. Maybe something interesting will
happen tomorrow. Maybe not.
never understood. What my Hillbilly Husband refers to as the
Dropsy. The condition of dropping things like there's no tomorrow.
It started at 4:20 this morning, my usual wake-up time. I dropped
a Wal-mart big little sandwich as I was getting it out of the fridge.
It was still in the wrapper, still suited for #1 son's lunch bag. Not
all of it. He's not a professional eater. I cut that long little sandwich
into fourths, and get four days of lunch out of it. Duh!
Next, I dropped my cell phone in a cup of water. Not intentionally.
This was without a doubt the worst drop of the day. I had set the
water on the kitchen counter, after drinking about a third of it with
my first pill of the day. I drink the rest as I am packing the lunches.
I noticed that my cell could use a little quality time on the charger,
plugged in the charger, and picked up the phone out of my purse.
(Don't ask why I'd put it back in the purse after seeing that it
needed a charge. It must be that groggy just-woke-up condition
that's as bad as being drunk, which I read about yesterday in the
USA Today.) I hate that phone. It is too small and smooth and
hard to hold onto. Oh, the bad luck! It slipped out of my hand right
over that cup of water. It didn't so much fall into the cup as it
dropped in, hit the side, and turned the cup over. I also managed to
drown a Gameboy Advance and two GameBoy DS thingies that
had been charging overnight. Of course there was only one select-
a-size paper towel left on the roll, so I had to open a new pack.
I dropped the lid off the cookie container as I finished making
the lunches. I dropped a dirty sock from the pile I carried to the
laundry room. I dropped a tampon into the bathtub. Oh, it was
still in the wrapper, and the tub was dry. Don't worry about me
soaking up all of the bath water with it. I'm a shower kind of gal.
It must be a home issue. I didn't drop anything at school. But as
I was making supper, I dropped that roll of paper towels trying
to put them on my paper towel holder. They didn't unroll very
much. Then I dropped a serving spoon as I was putting away the
clean dishes from the dish drainer. Shh...I put it into the drawer
anyway. Nobody will know.
That is the tally so far. NEWS FLASH! At 8:17 p.m., add two
socks as I moved the wet clothes from the washer to the dryer.
I don't want to think about what might happen tomorrow.
Friday the Thirteenth. My phone doesn't want to know either.
*************************************************
Because that old Mabel will complain that this post was not
satisfying AGAIN, I will write a little more. It's not good stuff. It's
gagging stuff. Literally. Do not read if you have a weak stomach.
I watched that Intervention show again Sunday night. This week's
addictions were food and heroin.
The food addict was bulimic. Nasty. Here was her routine. She
would eat a bunch of stuff, like at a breakfast buffet, or a dozen
donuts, or a pizza buffet dinner, and then vomit in secret. Yes, I
know that's the definition of bulimia. But she didn't just go into the
bathroom to do her vomiting. She used a toothbrush to gag herself
into vomiting, then vomited into gallon ziploc baggies. Eewww!
She did this in the garage, or her closet, and stashed the bags of
vomit behind her shoes, under her hanging clothes. At the end of
the week, she picked up all the bags and took them to a dumpster
at some business. Yuck! Smarten up, missy, and get fat like all
the rest of us.
The other guy was not so interesting. He was a gay who shot
heroin and had anonymous sex about 20 times a night to get drugs
or money. Oh, and he tested positive for AIDS shortly after he
entered treatment. Same old stuff.
Oh, and I also watched the Discovery Health Channel off and on,
to see the Half Ton Man. By the time I tuned in, he was down to
600-something pounds. Bummer. They interviewed his wife or
mother (sad that I couldn't tell which) about his food intake. From
off camera, he sniped that he didn't eat any more than a normal
person. During his voice-over, the camera panned around to show
pizza boxes sticking out of the trash, and all other sorts of evidence
that he could really strap on the old feedbag. He sounded like "The
Bubble Boy" on Seinfeld, when BB argued with George in that
pissy way over the Trivial Pursuit card that should have said
"Moors" but was printed "Moops."
That's all I've got tonight, Mabel. Maybe something interesting will
happen tomorrow. Maybe not.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 5:44 PM
5 Comments:
Man, I HATE it when I get the dropsies. But you have taken dropsies to a new level. I don't think that I have ever dropped all stuff in one day. Of course the best drop for me was a cake. Yes, I dropped a beautifully decorated cake. It hit the floor with a sickening THUNK. Luckily it was in a box and the top was only slightly ruined.
My mother-in-law tops both of us...she once dropped her cell phone into a public toilet. That's right!
And to the girl who barfed into sammich bags...how can anyone deal with their own barf without barfing some more? But then maybe that's what she wanted to do. Was she still barfing after the intervention?
I can't believe how I rambled with this one. Oiye. Have a good night!
http://www.danno.org/blogs
Chick,
OH! The toilet thing just reminded me...when I was a senior in HS, our band went to Springfield, IL on an overnight trip record a song with another school to go on our album. We each stayed with one of the other school's band members. After doing my business, I flushed the toilet. Then I was nosy, and reached for something that was sitting on the back of the toilet. My senior ring plopped into the toilet. I was HORRIFIED! I couldn't call for help.
I reached down into that toilet water, picked up my ring, and spent 15 minutes washing it and my hands. The biggest shock was that the toilet water was COLD. I don't know what I expected.
I could not watch the barf. I closed my eyes, and heard it splashing into the baggie. I made the mistake of peeping to see if she was done, and she was zipping it up. I also caught a glimpse when she hauled it out of the closet. I almost vomited from the sound the first time, and the sight of that vegetable-soup-looking stuff the second time. She went to the rehab place IN ST LOUIS and the screen at the end said she hadn't barfed since October something.
Rambling? What's that? I am the queen of the ramblers. Don't try to steal my title, or I will call you Rebecca.
HORRIFIED GASP!!!! OHHHH NOOOO I didn't know you were the queen of ramblers! I still want to be commander of your army! I have acquired a small troop of Cardinals and a large troop of Starlings who are on standby for poop duty. I'm still in negotiations with the Pigeons.
That out of the way, they actually showed the girl BARFING ON TV??? Ewwwww. I would have gagged and changed the channel.
Hi Hillbilly Mom,
You are still going on about me "Rambling Rebecca" stealing your things! Why can't you drop that one?
I have dropsy days all the time, it is a common thing for me, but I have an excuse, I have no feeling in the tips of my fingers, so I just don't know if I actually have ahold of things.
HooRoo
Rebecca
My day sucked really bad too, my car "dropped" the transmission or motor or powertain do-hicky. Still awaiting word on the severity of it. Happy Friday 13TH
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