Alternate title: God laughs...only I'm basically an atheist, so that feels disingenuous.
If you're over a certain age--say, fifteen--you probably know the gyst of the sayings "The best laid plans are laid to waste" or "Humans plan, god laughs". That was pretty much today.
For the record, I didn't have ambitious or complicated plans. They mostly revolved around my husband and I getting art supplies for my son and the pieces he needs to mount for a senior show. And then, you know, maybe some vegan ice cream, since that got derailed a bit yesterday, but that was pretty much it. (Actually, wait, I'm lying: I was planning on getting some cleaning done. Please know that if I'm saying that you shouldn't be imagining me adhering to the kinds of schedules women's magazines put out; if I get excited about cleaning the bathroom and kitchen, it's because they *require* a cleaning.)
My day started unusually early, even for me: after going to sleep at 9 because my husband was exhausted (and I had walked all over Boston), I woke up at 12:30 because my son had left his light on and couldn't go back to sleep until 2:30, courtesy of the late (but light) dinner I'd eaten close to 8. I did finally get to sleep--I mean, I woke up at 12:30--and then woke up again a little after 7. That almost never happens, but I confess I kind of enjoyed it. (Side note: it occurred to me while eating breakfast that maybe just maybe the matcha latte I had yesterday was part of the reason I woke up. Curse you, caffeine sensitivity.)
Wonder of wonders, my son was also awake by 7:30. That NEVER happens, but my husband and I were happy he could join us for breakfast. And he was enthusiastic about leaving to go get art supplies. I was finishing up the dishes when all of a sudden my husband felt nauseous, and he's basically been flat on his back ever since.
Hilarious interlude occurred when my son suggested that my husband had eaten almond butter instead of peanut butter; he just happens to be allergic to almonds. I called my sister because her family has had some experience with anaphylaxis, and then tried very hard to get my husband to go to the ER. He refused. He's also larger than I am, so I couldn't drag him away. However, I did get him to make an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow morning, so there's that.
So you know, I'm not incompetent, and I could have taken my son for art supplies. However, we are temporarily using a rental car--long story, don't ask--and he insisted that because I wasn't listed on the insurance I couldn't drive the car. When I told my sister this, she immediately told me that wasn't the case. I called the rental company, and they assured me that, yep, I could drive as long as our driver's licenses had the same address (they do). I gloated, in no small part because my husband can be insufferable when he's convinced he's right; also, I am prone to gloating. At which point he plaintively asked why I wanted to leave him when he was sick.
Thus have I spent most of my day essentially watching him sleep. Good news: he's feeling better.
I can clean tomorrow, and my husband can pick up the supplies while he's out and about. So it's all good...except for the part about the vegan ice cream.
Deb in the City
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