“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
It seems like things have taken a decidedly Fortunately, Unfortunately turn around here this week. I want to complain! I want to celebrate! I want… some Advil, for my aching head.
Being ambivalent is hard work, you know. I think. Maybe not.
I grew up in a household where you only got to stay home sick if you were burning up with fever or vomiting. I’m not that strict, but I’m in the delightful position of having one child who will not complain of feeling ill until he’s on death’s doorstep, and one child who will complain of feeling ill if the wind blows the wrong way. That makes it very difficult for me to know when a child is truly sick enough to stay home from school.
So yesterday, when the nurse called to say that Chickadee was in her office, I may have rolled my eyes a little. But then she told me that Monkey had been in there earlier, had laid in the dark for a good half an hour, and then decided to go back to class after asking if it would be okay to come back if he still felt sick. She went on to tell me that neither child had touched their lunch, and that she really thought I should come take them home.
I brought them home and put them to bed, and they both napped. Sick, right? Very clear. The evening was almost pleasant. But this morning, I couldn’t tell. Monkey was a little warm, but said he felt better. Chickadee was cool, but said her stomach still hurt. Eventually I let them both stay home, because I am a sucker.
By mid-afternoon I couldn’t decide if I was glad they were feeling better or if I wanted to kick myself and then them for missing school. But in light of how sick I was with the flu a couple of weeks ago, I suppose I should be grateful that they’re not sicker. Details.
So, here’s a funny: Remember how when I bought Otto’s wedding ring my credit card thought my card had been stolen? I was glad that they were paying attention and grateful that they’ve got my back and all, but I still chuckled as I assured them that no, all was well.
Wouldn’t it be JUST HILARIOUS if a week later, my card actually WAS stolen?
Yeah, I didn’t really see the humor, either. Especially since the fraud alert person who called this time sounded like she was about 14, first butchering my (very common) last name and then turning the name of my town into something very naughty in Sanskrit, I think. She did not wholly inspire my confidence, is what I’m telling you. But I most certainly did not hop online and buy myself anything at either an awning shop or a ranch, so I guess despite her speech impediments she’s doing an excellent job.
I’m not liable for the charges and they caught it very quickly, so all’s well. Except for the part where I just set up a bunch of my bills to automatically go on the credit card to cut down on the number of checks I need to write every month. And the part where it will take seven to ten business days for them to get me the replacement account number.
And the part where it pisses me off that someone got ahold of my credit card number, when the card itself is still in my purse.
It figures that right after I bitch and moan about the vast hardships of my life as a freelancer (“People are dumb! And they keep TALKING TO ME! Wah!”), a sizable contract more or less fell out of the sky into my lap, and I immediately wanted to make out with myself for being so brilliant. Sure, all I did was, um, BE THERE, but my innate talent and beauty must’ve figured in there somewhere.
There’s only one catch; it’s basically a full-time gig for the next several weeks.
Me: So, I don’t know, I think it’s probably a great opportunity, don’t you?
Otto: That’s going to take you just about right up to the wedding, you know. Are you sure you want to do that?
Me: Well, I think I probably should. The money will be handy.
Otto: Well, yeah, but we’ve got a lot going on here. Are you going to be able to manage that AND your other projects AND selling the house and getting ready for the wedding?
Me: Well, it pays [insert dollar amount here].
Otto: We’ll adapt. You can do this!
(He’s a trooper, that Otto. I am really looking forward to the first time I have a big project and the kids are sick and I can tell him I need to work and he’ll adapt.)
Now. Does anyone want to finish planning our wedding for me? Because I’m sort of busy.