Not Feeling So Hot

I think I'm coming down with something. I had a couple of bouts of dizziness the other day, my neck is starting to get stiff and sore (which always makes me think I'm dying from meningitis), I'm cold at night, tired, my throat is feeling like maybe it will hurt tomorrow and maybe it won't. I think the stress of the past two weeks has gotten to me, that and I'm not getting enough sleep.

I'm annoyed that we might have to do cheerleading in the rain tomorrow. I asked the cheer director yesterday about how the inclement weather policy works in regards to notifications, and she said that basically there is no inclement weather policy, that football games are played in the rain. Okay, I know the pros do that and shit, but that's what they get paid for. Me, coaching in the rain? I don't think so. My daughters, cheering in the rain? I don't think so. But since I'm a coach, I can't just blow the whole thing off because it's raining, and I can't show up without my children. This just boils down to this sucks ass. I would hate to end up dying from consumption or something because I was standing out in the rain yelling cheers. Even more than that, my hair would look like shit and my feet would be wet. My feet can only get wet in the shower or pool, and my hair can never look like shit. My body and soul begin a long, slow, painful shutdown process if either happens. And let's not even get into what happens if my makeup runs. My saving grace will be thunder and/or lightening.

I need to get my oil changed, which means that either tomorrow morning or Sunday morning, I'll need to have my ass in Merchant's at seven o'clock to make that happen, unless I want to hang around for about three hours waiting. Not thrilled about that, unless the manager who usually flirts with me is there and is extra quick with my car. I also need to get my windshield replaced, because all of this running up and down 288 and 95 has finally caught up with me. The fourth chip in the windshield is what did it. I now have a nice long crack in that bad boy. I'm just not even pressed, even though I know I should be.

Cheerleading pictures on Sunday afternoon, unless there is rain, and then they'll cancel that. Pray for rain. Pray for rain. Pray for rain. Mommy needs a long day in the bed. Next week is going to be long and hard, mainly because I've got to drive to Northern Virginia on Wednesday and be there by 8:30, then stay til 4:30, and come rushing home for a football game at 6:30. I'm pretty sure I'll be late for everything that day. I hate driving in Northern Virginia. Actually, I don't think hate is a strong enough word. Really, if I wanted to deal with that kind of traffic and asshole drivers, I would just go to Henrico, which I have affectionately (or not) begun to call NoVa on the James. I think it has a catchy ring to it. My friends who live in Henrico aren't amused, but fuck it, they also don't have their porch railing duct taped together. Oh, and did I mention that Wednesday is my birthday? Between driving to Northern Virginia, sitting through a training session, driving back to the RVA, rushing to a football game, rushing home for homework and to make lunches, I'm pretty sure I won't be getting laid. In fact, I'm positive I won't be getting laid. Happy birthday to me. But, since I'm a glass-half-full kind of gal, I'll enjoy that this birthday is not full of The Ex, and it's not going to be full of me having to explain to him that not having sex with him is the only gift I really want.

And... I might be getting a new cat this weekend. Yes, I just put my other cat down, and yes, I had him cremated and just picked up his remains the other day. He's sitting on top of the refrigerator right now, because before he got old and could still jump, he liked to lay on top of the refrigerator. So that's where I put him for the time being, although I'm thinking about moving him to an empty shoebox in the back of the closet, because he liked that more than the top of the refrigerator. The children don't know he's home yet, but they know I got him cremated. My father was cremated, and I had to explain the whole concept to them when he died, which is hard to explain to a five year old. But I explain shit like that to my children, because children can handle more than we think they can. That, and I just think that children shouldn't wonder about stuff. Either I'll tell them and clear all the questions up, or they'll grow up having issues like the issues I have with my mother not letting me say goodbye to my grandmother when she was dying when I was in sixth grade. But about explaining difficult concepts to children, you just have to break it down in simplistic terms. Every now and then, the children discuss the big fire that burned Grandpa's body up, and that his ashes are at the house with Mothbrain. I don't know where in the house Mothbrain put them, because I never asked. I suggested she stick him in the garage or in front of the TV, because those were his two favorite places, but I don't know if she actually did it or not. I think if we cremate people, we should have enough respect to put them where they would most like to be if they don't specify where they want to be. Hence, my cat is on top of the refrigerator until I move him to the closet.

The new cat is my former neighbor's cat, and this woman is like my other mother. In fact, that's what I call her. She's selling her house and moving back to West Virginia, but wants the cat to stay here. So sometime this weekend, I'll be bringing home a lovable Siamese cat who has been fixed and declawed. This cat is also one of the loudest cats I've ever encountered, but Siamese cats are like that. I think she'll fit in fine with us, because my children and I are three of the loudest people I know. It's a little strange, because I had gotten used to the idea of not having any pets, and I was actually enjoying not having any pets. I already have two little cockblockers running around the house, and that's really enough for me. But my other mother, she knows I can't say no to her. I can't and even if I could, I wouldn't. Welcome to the family, Gel. We'll all be loud together.