Smart phones and super heroes

I got a Droid.  It's fancy.  Much fancier than me.  I've had a few panic attacks while trying to figure it out.  Mostly because of the weird and horrifically loud noises it made whenever I touched anything.  Thank you to my boss for helping me yesterday.  I can now listen to Pandora which is pretty fantastic, I can check the weather which is one of my favorite things to do, and I can play on Pinterest which makes me really happy.  The phone and I are getting used to one another and I think we might become friends.  Eventually.  I feel like it's got a brain and so it should have a name.  Any suggestions?

Now, onto the super heroes...
I took Grace to see The Avengers last weekend.  I've never been a super hero type of girl, but that movie changed me.  I am now super hero obsessed.  I even have Avengers ringtones on my phone.  It makes me giggle to wake up to the theme song.  I blame Thor and Iron Man.  They were hilarious.  I think I might be entering nerd territory.  That's ok with me.   

Adrienne to the rescue!!!

While at the ATM the other day, I observed what appeared to be smoke in the mulch next to the parking lot of the bank.  I would not have noticed this if it weren't for my driver's window being inoperable, thus causing me to get out of my car.  I got my money and ventured over to the smoke billowing from the ground.  In the few seconds it took to get to the fire, I was really hoping that it wasn't smoke but water from a malfunctioning sprinkler.  Nope.  There were flames and no water.  With the speed of a cheetah, I grabbed the full bottle of water from my car and doused the flames.  I was feeling pretty satisfied with myself until it dawned on me that it was a very hot, dry, and windy day.  The mulch could still be smoldering underneath and reignite.  So, I called the fire department.  They put more water on it and declared it safe while I stood there wondering if they thought it was me that started the fire.  I don't think they did because I haven't been investigated by the authorities...yet.  Either way, if I hadn't noticed that fire, it could have gotten really big and spread to the bank and the bank could have gone up in flames.  So, I think the bank should give me some money.  So what if the fire was no bigger than a pop can? 

That's better

My doctor gave me some medicine to "take the edge off" of my non-smoking emotional instability.  I must say that the medicine is doing a wonderful job.  I now have control over my emotions once again.  It's a relief.  I'm pretty sure Grace is thrilled about this.  I feel a little funny though.  Oddly calm.  I'm not used to this, but I think I like it.

Yesterday was Grace's last day of school.  Her whole grade had a field trip to the park and a nature center.  I volunteered to be a chaperon.  It was a lot of fun.  I picked a spot to hang out by the tire swing because I knew that where there is a tire swing, there will be drama.  All the kids wanted on the tire swing at one time.  If they wouldn't take turns, I threatened to kick them all off the swing and not let them back on.  They actually listened which shocked the heck out of me.  I'm glad they listened because I would have jumped on the swing myself and stuck my tongue out at them and Grace wouldn't have liked that.

After a bit on the playground, we all walked to the nature center.  There was a boy who had an allergic reaction of some sort during this walk.  One of his eyes started swelling pretty bad.  Just the one eye.  I ran to my car and got an ice pack out of my lunch bag.  I felt like supermom for having something first aid-ish until I realized that the ice pack was half melted and the size of the kid's face.  He was not thrilled, but it helped.  By the end of the hike, both eyes were swollen, but just a little.

At the end of the nature hike, I noticed that Grace had a tick in her hair.  I quickly yanked it out.  The presence of one tick made a few kids nervous and they asked me to check their hair as well.  So, I picked through sweaty hair in pursuit of 8 legged, flat, gross bugs.  I didn't find any.  I hope I didn't miss them.

After such a busy and exhausting week, I am ready for a 3 day weekend.  Let's hope it is somewhat calm. 

Kind of a weird day

I have to say that today has been a bit on the weird side.  I woke up with a migraine.  I'm a tough cookie so I came to work and held off on taking the Imitrex almost all day.  Shortly after I got to work, I learned that there was a giant house fire in town.  Turns out, that house was occupied by an old friend of mine, her twin girls, and her fiance.  They lost everything.  And she's 5 months pregnant and going to school full time.  Not cool.  Shortly before lunch, my Grandma's pharmacy was robbed.  The pharmacy is close to my daughter's school and it prompted a lock-down.  I will admit that my heart stopped when I heard about that.  Everyone is ok, thank goodness.  Last, and not least, my doctor said I'm normal.  This whole crazy Adrienne thing is ok.  My brain just loved nicotine a heck of a lot and needs some extra time to cope with the loss.  My doctor gave me something to take the edge off.  Between that and the Imitrex that I finally took, I'm feeling pretty good and want to go deliver hugs to those people who had a tough day.

Donuts!

I've been feeling mighty crazy since I quit smoking.  Instead of the crazy feelings ceasing, they are getting worse.  Don't worry though.  I'm going to the doctor and he'll make me all better.  I hope...for the sake of the world.  I haven't really wanted to kill anyone, but I sure have wanted to do some punching and a whole lot of crying.

Anyway, I've discovered 2 good things about quitting smoking despite the crazy hell.  The first is that I smell pretty.  I really like that.  The second is that after a couple days of putting up with my pure bitchiness, Michael breaks down and throws a donut at me.  I believe he has a secret stash somewhere and I need to find it.  He knows that giving me a donut will at least shut me up for the length of time it takes me to shove the donut down my gullet.  I've noticed that the donuts are getting bigger...

I really do learn something new everyday

Today, I learned that if the American Flag touches the ground for any reason, it must be properly destroyed.  I think it's kind of a waste of perfectly good fabric to destroy the flag when it touched the ground by accident or force of Mother Nature.  The flagpole at work was broken during a storm over the weekend and the flag fell.  It's not like anything purposely tried to desecrate the flag.  I suppose us Americans could have pissed off Mother Nature and she could have done it on purpose.  But, what do I know?  I also learned that the flag must be folded in a triangle like the military folds them before it can be destroyed.  After a bit of Googling, we figured out exactly how to do that and a coworker and I set to work folding it perfectly.  Sort of.  We did our best, but it wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination.  I'm sure someone could have us arrested for flag desecration.

I think he heard me wrong...

I said, "I think my kid is starting puberty."  Michael thought I said, "I think my tit is starting puberty."  He then changed the subject to taking disco dancing lessons with his sister in the 70's.

In other news, my house has become a home for temporarily homeless living creatures.  For a few weeks I had a 16 year old girl who stayed with me most nights of the week while her dad worked weird hours.  She was fun.  She let me beat her with a hockey stick, but only when she was wearing her full hockey padding.  I'm not sure if that's fair.  I'm sure the neighbors were concerned when they saw me beating her, too.  Oh well.  Now, I have a dog.  She's very little.  Maybe 1/4th of the weight of my cat.  The cat is not happy about the dog.  The dog looks like a tiny wookie.  She is my uncle's dog.  He neglected to tell me until minutes before he boarded an airplane that sometimes the dog gets constipated and you have to help her get it out.  It's going to be a long weekend.  By the way, I will not be helping the dog crap.  I'll sit outside as long as it takes, but she can do the dirty work on her own.

Funny Unconsciousness

I put on the medium strength nicotine patch today in a desperate attempt to get some relief from this nicotine withdrawal crap.  It's been hell.  Within minutes of putting on the patch, I felt great.  I felt like me again.  It was awesome!  Fast forward a couple hours and I was shaky, queasy, and could barely sit up.  I ripped the patch off because I feared that I would pass out at my desk and that would lead to a series of events that would probably be hilarious...to everyone but me.  This is what would happen:

I'd fall out of my chair.  As I was falling, the chair would roll away and I would smash my face on the desk, wall, and floor.  If I was lucky, Michael would be interested enough by the sounds of my body hitting things to look over the cubicle wall.  In this case, he would shriek like a girl and probably pass out himself.  At this point, we have to hope that Troy is in his office and not out and about.  He would surely be able to keep his composure enough to call the First Responders.  These trained medical people would come rushing in with their medical things and possibly the defibrillator.  I would come to as they got my vitals and waited for the ambulance while laughing at my unconscious gaseous expulsions.  I would look over and see Michael passed out and laugh myself into hysteria.  After all this, I would have to run away and never come back.

Shoot.  Maybe I shouldn't have taken off that patch.  I would find this funny.

Michael

Michael is my work spouse/dad.  It's an odd relationship.  He's 25 years older than me.  He can mumble some nonsensical sentence and I know exactly what he meant to say.  At one point, I even knew all of his old man prescriptions.  He's a special case.  We spend a lot of time laughing which is good because we work in a very small office.  Just the two of us.  I can do anything I want in this office except fart.  That proves to be difficult sometimes.

Last weekend, his roommate went out of town and Michael told me he would probably text me a few times so I'd know he was alive.  He has a paranoia that he'll die all alone and no one will find him until after his fat weiner dog, Freida, has eaten his dead body.

During his alone time, he was having some movers come move an insanely heavy cabinet of some sort.  Of course, Michael hired the company that is owned by my psychotic neighbor.  I texted Michael on Saturday to make sure he was alive because he hadn't texted me.  He said that he was fine and that the movers had just left.  He then sent these three texts about one of the movers in rapid succession:

"He fa"
"He f"
"Fuck it. he farted."

Ha!  That's what he gets for hiring a whack job to move his stuff.

Not Smoking Makes You Feel Good

At least that's what I've heard.  I really don't feel good though.  I feel like a fat, greasy, disgusting, pig.  It's been a week so the mood swings should be over, but they're not.  Honestly, I feel like I'm pregnant.  I want to do nothing but sleep and cry.  I feel like a pansy.  I've cheated death, been a single parent, and kicked a tumor's ass.  That all seems easier than quitting smoking.  Damn you, Nicotine.  You might be strong, but I'm gonna kick your ass too.

On the bright side, my lungs feel pretty good.  I ran part of a 5k this weekend and I went a whole 3 minutes before my lungs hurt which is 2 minutes and 57.5 seconds longer than when I smoked.  So, yay!