Since I last checked in, my life has consisted of the following things:
2. Being sick
3. Complaining about the above 2 items on the list
Just wanted to let you know I'm still here, sort of. And that I'm still reading your blogs, even if I haven't commented lately.
So far, I'm not having a good year. Work is beating me up. And I have no free time so it feels like my life is unraveling. Everything in my apartment is covered in dust and in the wrong place. I don't think I've seen Devin for like 3 weeks because he's been working like crazy. And the dog is depressed because we're not home and when we are we don't feel like doing anything. So now I'm a bad pet owner. And I haven't felt like washing my face at night because I'm so tired before I go to bed, and I don't feel like blow-drying my hair in the morning, so I look gross all the time. And I'm getting fat and flabby because I have no time to adhere to any sort of diet and fitness regimen.
And I don't even feel comfortable feeling sorry for myself because there are plenty of people in the world with real problems.
So that's how that's going lately. And then this morning, the exact right thing happened next: I fell in a puddle.
I woke up really early, feeling pretty lousy after drinking 4 margaritas last night with my friend. I couldn't fall back to sleep and I could hear that it was raining lightly outside, so I thought it would be nice to take Seamus on a long walk.
Things started off fine, despite my feeling a bit dizzy. It felt appropriate to walk in the rain and think about things. In my head I was hearing that music from the Cymbalta commercial. "Where does depression hurt? Everywhere. Who does depression hurt? Everyone."
Then the rain started to come down harder. Seamus was displeased. But I trudged forward. But then my raincoat was soaked through (probably because it isn't really a rain coat at all, and is barely water-resistant, but it usually works to get me through the short distances from place to car and then car to place).
And then the rain reached ridiculous levels, Seamus was no longer having any fun, and a woman getting into her car gave me a dirty look for being a dog abuser. So, I turned around to head home.
Because it doesn't rain very often in Southern California, the roads aren't really built for drainage. Massive puddles built up along the sides of the road and especially at intersections. And I encountered one such massive puddle at a corner 2 blocks from my apartment.
It extended a few feet from the curb, so I hesitated in front of it for a moment. Then I decided to just make a leap for it. I jumped over the puddle, but Seamus did not jump with me. I landed on the edge of the curb, but was wearing slippery flip flops so I didn't take hold very well. I wobbled, leaning back, and then forward, and nearly had my balance, when Seamus did a weird puddle-hopping maneuver. Both feet went into the puddle. But this was no ordinary puddle. I'd say it was mid-shin deep.
And the fun didn't stop there. It wasn't like my feet slipped in and I just stopped. The whole thing was a struggle. I still hadn't regained my balance, and grabbed onto a the pole of a street sign to save myself from falling all the way backward. The entire time, Seamus was going nuts and pulling me in all directions. The two of us were splashing up a storm. And I made an embarrassing "wooahhh-oooahh" noise.
To make matters worse, a car was driving by as this happened. Which means there is a small possibility that somewhere out there, a man is telling his coworkers that he saw a girl and her dog flailing around in flood waters this morning.
Anyway, I finally made it onto the sidewalk and back home. At this point I was feeling sort of Charlie Brown-ish. Good grief. I took a shower and started getting dressed.
And then I pulled a shirt out of one one my drawers and realized my cat had peed on it.