A series of unfortunate events
1. I'm taking my mom to the airport tomorrow. It was a good visit, though maybe long enough for both of us.
2. Tomorrow I also have to finish preparing for the workshop I'm leading on Saturday.
I'm supposed to be working on it at this very moment, but I have a tendency to procrastinate.
3. The honeymoon is over: tonight Sarah told me I wasn't her favorite mom, because I won't play the Barbie game with her like Grandma does, never mind that RW won't play it either. I knew I shouldn't have written that post.
4. That little fender-bender I got into on Monday? Much bigger deal than it originally appeared. The hatchback door was damaged as well as the fender. The car may be totalled; i.e. the repairs would cost more than the car is worth. The Vanagon ahead of me was also damaged, it now emerges, which turns Vanagon Woman from a witness into another claimant. And it turns out I was supposed to file a police report right away. Two claims adjusters will be trying to call me tomorrow, while I am running around to airports and conferences and such. This could mean that:(a) we end up with some money for a Vanagon of our own, or (b) we are ensnarled in an insurance nightmare for the forseeable future. Or (b) followed by (a). Or (b) followed by more (b), with frantic search for other witnesses, followed by miniscule amount of money with which we must buy the second car we need to keep our household running.
5. The cat appears to have fleas, but when, oh when, will I have time to chase him down and drive him to the vet? And if I don't, will Sarah be flea-bitten forever?
6. The oysters are all gone.
7. My "bulleted list" and "numbered list" shortcuts have disappeared from Blogger. WTF?
2. Tomorrow I also have to finish preparing for the workshop I'm leading on Saturday.
I'm supposed to be working on it at this very moment, but I have a tendency to procrastinate.
3. The honeymoon is over: tonight Sarah told me I wasn't her favorite mom, because I won't play the Barbie game with her like Grandma does, never mind that RW won't play it either. I knew I shouldn't have written that post.
4. That little fender-bender I got into on Monday? Much bigger deal than it originally appeared. The hatchback door was damaged as well as the fender. The car may be totalled; i.e. the repairs would cost more than the car is worth. The Vanagon ahead of me was also damaged, it now emerges, which turns Vanagon Woman from a witness into another claimant. And it turns out I was supposed to file a police report right away. Two claims adjusters will be trying to call me tomorrow, while I am running around to airports and conferences and such. This could mean that:(a) we end up with some money for a Vanagon of our own, or (b) we are ensnarled in an insurance nightmare for the forseeable future. Or (b) followed by (a). Or (b) followed by more (b), with frantic search for other witnesses, followed by miniscule amount of money with which we must buy the second car we need to keep our household running.
5. The cat appears to have fleas, but when, oh when, will I have time to chase him down and drive him to the vet? And if I don't, will Sarah be flea-bitten forever?
6. The oysters are all gone.
7. My "bulleted list" and "numbered list" shortcuts have disappeared from Blogger. WTF?
posted by elswhere | 10:11 PM
1 Comments:
OK, this will be neither witty nor charming, but you can buy frontline on-line & needn't go to the vet: http://www.discountpetdrugs.com/adfleconforc.html
Am I allowed to put links to commercial sites in a blog comment? But even with shipping ($3.95) this is cheaper than buying it from the vet, and so much easier. Ours was delivered in about 5 days.
I'm typing loudly so I can't hear the debates downstairs--Kristi is unphased and has been talking back to the tv but I'm desperately, miserably nervous for Kerry. I keep running downstairs, she assures me he's doing well (and apparently Bush cut off the moderator), then I come up & try to find something else to look at on-line. I can't even read. Of course, the only unread book in the house is about dog training, not exactly riveting.
--Angela
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