Monday - February 2nd

I was determined to not do any cleaning today. No such luck. I decided to shred a ton of paper that was left from the day before and I did some dishes. After all that, I took Bink and my friend Debbie shopping in Deptford. We hit the Target and it killed me to not buy a ton of scrap stuff on clearance. If it's marked down, you almost feel like you have to buy it. I got out of there with four packs of the dollar bin paper instead.

While we were there, my friend scooted to the bathroom, saying she wasn't feeling all that well. Hum...not good. So off she goes and Bink and I finish shopping and meet her at the registers. She said she felt okay, but not okay. I asked her if she wanted to go home or was it okay to take a ride over to AC Moore? I said she could stay in the car and I'd take Bink in with me. She said, sure, that's was find, she'd close her eyes and rest and maybe them she'd feel a little better. No dice.

I went in and looked at all the stuff and bought one thing. A chipboard word Princess, that I can decorate and put in Bink's bedroom. We come out and I change Bink's diaper in the trunk of the car (we don't like changing tables, they're always dirty and have shit on them from lazy ass moms who don't know what a sanitizing wipe is for). I get Bink in her car seat and the next thing I know, Debbie opens the car door and is leaning out, chumming the parking lot. I have to admit she was pretty quiet while doing it. I'm use to hubby puking in a noisy dramatic fashion.

She gets done barfing and is moaning and complaining how she feels like crap, her legs are wobbly, etc. I said we'd head on home when she was ready for the car to move. So we sit there for ten minutes or so and funny as hell, the seagulls are perching on the car roofs around us, waiting for us to leave. You got it. They couldn't wait for us to leave so they could eat the puke. When I finally pulled out of our parking spot, they all dive bombed the puke. I smothered my laughter and took pity on them and three a bag of fries out the window for them.

So off we go, heading for home with my friend moaning and looking not all that well. She then asks me to stop at the house she's getting ready to move into instead of her current house so she can feed the cat. I said I could do it and stubborn her, she wanted to do it. So after the forty-five minute ride there, she sits in my car in the driveway, moaning and saying she doesn't know if she can get up. I tell her to at least open the door of the car so she doesn't puke IN my car. I would go in and take care of the cat, then I would take her home. No dice.

She won't give me the keys and pulls herself up and out of the car, saying she doesn't know if she can walk or stand all that well. I wanted to yell at her, "Give me the fucking keys and let me do it!", but I kept my composure and let her do what she wanted. Of course she then stands at the door, wobbling and yelling, "Help me, I can't stand!" Oh yea for me.

I get out and help her sit down on the steps. She wants to lay down so I let her, but she's saying she needs sure and won't hand over the keys. When I finally get them from her, I have no idea what key opens what, so here I am, trying to open the door to the house with her right under my feet, moaning and saying the word sugar over and over again. I dash to my car and grab a granola bar. It's the only sugary thing I had, and she won't even open her mouth to eat it.

So she starts convulsing. Greeeeart. My friend is a diabetic so I knew it wasn't something else. I remained calm through all of this. What would be the use of panicking anyway? I get the door open and dash in looking for table sugar. I'm like, where the fuck is it, as I search the kitchen. I have no idea where she keeps her glucose either. I dash back out and help her up and into the kitchen where I plop her in a chair and ask where her sugar is. She mumbles purse, so I grab crap out of it and dump it on the table. She says it's in the middle zipper while she grabs a bag of M & M's and shoves some of them in. I FINALLY find the glucose tablets and give them to her.

Now while this is all going on, she's saying she needs to feed the cat. I'm like, fuck the cat! I can do that. I don't say that to her though, I just start doing it and all the while I doing it, she's telling me to pour the food in the bowl, give her water, etc. Um...hello! I have a cat, I know what it needs. She was in diabetic shock, so I could forgive her for being stupid. :)

So I get it done, she uses the bathroom and I take her back to the car to take her home. Lucky for me, Bink had fallen asleep in the car on the way there and I had locked her in. I kept running back to the car to check on her every few minutes in case she had woken up. I didn't want her to wake up and panic, thinking I had forgotten her.

I get Debbie home and help her to house and leave. He family was there so she wasn't going to be alone. I text a messages later to her daughter and asked how she was doing. Sick in bed with the flu. 'Tis the season for it.

I managed to get home, unload the car, get Bink her coloring stuff out that we had bought at Target, and then Chuck comes home. We talked a little while I made turkey veggie soap. It's easy when you have canned broth. Chop the turkey breast up, pour in the broth, add a bad of soup veggies, and add your own spices and you have a quick easy meal in about twenty minutes. Most of it's the cooking time on the stove, so it's not hard at all.

I pack up my hockey gear for practice, then I had Chuck get Bink ready to go to Auntie LaLa's. I dropped her off there on my way to hockey. Chuck had basketball.

Practice was really good. Lots of skating, although I took it easy because my knee had been swollen for over a week. It's non-hockey related too. I did it standing in place for over three hours at the table putting together a scrapbook for Bink's preschool. Leave it to me to hurt myself doing something stupid. So now I need to start icing my knee down so the swelling goes down.