Last night I had an alien in my belly. Between my back spasms and the cramps, I swore up and down that I was Robin from 'V'.
Lrudlrick: What did you eat?
pantrygirl: I don’t know. Besides the leftover night dinner, I had half a bottle of red wine.
Lrudlrick: ok.
pantrygirl: Some linzer cookies, an orange, some pretzel goldfish, two glasses of chocolate milk
Lrudlrick: Oh, baby. It was the chocolate milk.
pantrygirl: and an ice cream sandwich.
Lrudlrick: Oh man. It was the dairy.
pantrygirl: I’ve had dairy before. I ate that entire cheesecake that time.
Lrudlrick: Yeah but that’s part milk. Milk is full milk.
pantrygirl: oy.
For those wondering, leftover night dinner is when I take everything that has been lurking in my fridge and reheat it. This happens maybe once every two weeks. Rarely does anything every make it to leftover night so it’s not as bad as you think. It’s not like I’ve got chicken in there that is over three days old. Most stuff gets eaten before the saran wrap comes out.
However, for this particular leftover meal, there was a hodge podge of Chinese New Year eats, mashed potatoes and beef and broccoli. So it’s entirely possible that leftover night and the massive quantities of junk food I ate afterwards could be the major culprit of alien baby. Don’t ask why I ate such an odd assortment of foods. I blame the wine.
So I spent the night with pillows strategically placed around my body so that my back was comfortable yet stomach was able to attain a fetal-like position that seems to make all stomach pains feel better.
I’ve already scheduled two massages and if I could afford it, I’d have them come to my office but alas, I must wait until next weekend for much needed comfort.
Oh, apparently Law & Order will be filming in our building again. We’re not sure which L&O. Lrudlrick hopes it’s the original so that he can catch Dennis Farina. I’m hoping it’s SVU with Oz-man or Ice-T. But it’s all wishful thinking because I’m sure we’ll be at work while they do the filming. At most, we’ll get to see the crew strike up the set and take our parking spots.
You know, all I need to happen is for my MIL to see the building in a scene where there is some gang fight or death or overdose. Our weekly call consisted of her fear for us living in the city. She swears it’s safer in the suburbs. I mentioned that in the suburbs, the nearest neighbor wouldn’t find my rotting corpse until the weather got warmer. She laughed. Then I mentioned that in the suburbs, my life expectancy probably would drop due to undue stress of a 2-3 hour daily commute. She asked me why we didn’t quit our jobs and find a more laid back job in the ‘burbs’. She’s obsessed with the ‘burbs’. Her idea of retiring is moving to Saugerties. Personally, I’m happy in Manhattan. I’ve lived 20 or so years in a suburb-like setting. I’ve endured being sent onto the roof to clean the gutters or retrieve lost balls. I’m quite comfortable calling the super to fix the leaky pipe and the convenience of walking down the block for Ben & Jerry’s at 1 in the morning.
I’ll leave you with a strange dream I had last night. I was leisurely getting ready for work when I went into the bathroom and found the tub was overflowing. Now, I didn’t find this weird nor did I find the bathtub being moved to the center of the bathroom so as to look like a peninsula strange either. In fact, it was raised off the ground and had a small step made of tile around the entire tub. Anyway, I shut off the water and called Lrudlrick who grabbed some towels and started soaking up the water. It was a massive amount and it didn’t seem to be shrinking. We kept grabbing whatever we could find nearby to soak up the mess. During the mop up we were quite calm and talking casually. I reached over to grab some loose clothes on the floor when I spotted a small striped sock. It was a green, blue and yellow striped baby sock and I laughed at how tiny it was. Lrudlrick, expressionless continued to wring out a towel. I joked about putting it on the P-man and he told me to stop joking and help him finish the clean up. Then it dawned on me that it wasn’t our apartment. The layout was similar but this house was not our house. The walls had 8 ½ x 11 pieces of paper taped to the wall. Each paper had an odd holographic image on it. I tried making out what the images were but was thwarted each time by our dogs. Whatever the holograms were though, it made me feel like they were looking at me. Then I opened my eyes and found three pair of eyes staring at me. Apparently, I finally got a taste of what Punxsutawney Phil gets every February 2nd.
