It's a WTF Kind of Day

In early June some time (I forget the actual day), my mom ordered a crib mattress cover sheet and a crib mattress for me. The crib mattress is a really nice one! I've been stoked to get it and put it in the crib and poke it several times a day.

The crib sheet got here within a week of her ordering.

The crib mattress still has not arrived.

So I was talking to my mom last night, and I mentioned to her that the mattress still hadn't arrived. She assured me that she would check with Amazon.com, whom she had ordered it from, and would see what's going on with it.

She called me this morning and said that, according to Amazon, I had received and signed for the mattress on June 19th. Umm... yeah, no. I certainly did not. I thought maybe it was delivered to my apartment when I wasn't here, so the delivery person took it to our apartment's office. They usually leave a note on your door saying that you received a package, but I never had one there. Maybe, I reasoned, the note fell off or the guy forgot to put one on my door or something, and the mattress is still sitting in the office. Since no one is there on Sundays, I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see if that's the case. Meanwhile, my mom is about to get medieval on Amazon's ass.

So that was my first WTF moment of the day. My mom called just as I was saddling Sophie up for her walk. I make her wear a doggy backpack so that if she poops, she can carry the stinky poo bag until we find a garbage receptacle.

Sophie hates her backpack

I decided not to let this unsavory news ruin my day, so I proceeded to take Sophie on the walk. I decided that today, I would take my empty refillable gallon water jug down to the grocery store (which is like a mile away), refill it in the water machine outside, and then walk back home. Water only weighs 8lbs per gallon, and I brought my backpack to put it in, so it wasn't hard to carry or anything. I kind of felt like some native in a jungle somewhere, balancing my water jug on my head, going down to the river to refill and probably contract dysentery. Only without the dysentery (hopefully).

On the way down to the store, I passed a U-Haul truck. They all have those little "Did You Know?" tidbits on the side, and being the nerd for stupid useless info that I am, I was trying to read the fact and walk at the same time. Something about the only city in North America that's surrounded by a wall. I didn't get to read which city it was because I stepped on an uneven part of the sidewalk and twisted my ankle. This uneven part of the sidewalk happens to be in front of a church, and it being Sunday morning, there were several hordes of people entering the church, and they all saw me trip and almost fall and then limp away. I'd also like to report that no one offered any help. Thanks, fuckers!

So I limped down to the store to refill my water, and there was a sign on the machine that said, "I work now!" And I thought, "This does not bode well." And it didn't. It worked, kind of, but I ended up with a water jug that had probably 5/6th of a gallon INSIDE and 1/6th of a gallon OUTSIDE, and a wet backpack and shirt. Sigh.

I limped home. I took a different route into my building than I took out, and I saw a nice pile of half-cleaned vomit on the floor. The college kids on the third floor had a party, it seems! I heard them stomping around last night, but none of the usual screaming and loud music. I have the apartment complex security people on speed-dial, just so you know. Sophie tried to eat the vomit, and fortunately, I stopped her before she did.

In my apartment, I unsaddled Sophie and myself, fed her, put the water in the fridge, and then tried to figure out what I want for breakfast. I've been having a hard time breathing lately, so eating has become extremely uncomfortable.

I'm pretty sure the breathing difficulty is happening because the Beast is using my lungs as back support while s/he kicks the bejesus out of my abdominal cavity. The kicking is so hard that it hurts now. And not just like, "Oh, that was uncomfortable," but like, "FUCK I THINK I JUST GOT SHANKED!"

Also, the Beast apparently disapproves of me eating anything at all, and will punch me in the stomach so hard that my stomach will try to eject the food out the way it came in. It's not barfing, exactly, more like reflux. It feels wonderful to eat something and then burp 15 minutes later and have half of what you just ate try to escape out of your mouth. I lied. It's not wonderful at all.

So that's my Sunday so far. All that occurred before 10am. And I still have to clean the fish tank, do my laundry, and tidy up for when my dad gets here on Wednesday. Standby for blog post regarding a spilled bucket of shitty fish water, or an exploding washing machine.