Lucky to Survive the Weekend

If the weekend officially starts Friday, (which it kind of does around here, when you're itching for it, and the boss is on a flight to Phoenix) it was a very strange weekend indeed. At 8:00 AM, a crew started working on the air conditioning unit at work...directly above my office. Sounded like the sky was falling, and I think it was. Shoulda been four-nineteen!

Around 10:00 AM, a woman had a heart attack or seizure or something...something bad...right outside my office window. She had a man with her but they both spoke only Spanish. I rushed out with a blanket (if you know me at all, you shouldn't be surprised that I have a blanket in my office) to place under her head. Another gentleman ran up with his cell phone. He also only speaks Spanish. I understood the womans request for "agua" and ran back into the building to get water. When I returned, the guy on the phone handed it to me, as the 911 operator did not speak Spanish (huh? We, as white folk, are the minority around here now. Seems like all 911 operators should be bi-lingual in this area!) So I explain she is having chest pains, wants water, and that's all I can figure out. Needless to say, the ambulance finally arrives and denies her the water...takes her away.

Exactly two hours later, I hear a big KABOOM outside my window. A car has run up onto the sidewalk, takes out a parking sign, tries to swerve back into the road and runs smack dab into the taco truck parked outside my window...from the grass side...not the street side! Hell....more ambulances and fire trucks. Told my staff to "run for the hills", save themselves. Weird ass day!
Got a last minute call for dinner at Bob and Janet's house out in the middle of nowhere. Had a lovely dinner! Somehow....SOME-DAMN-HOW (and as I was not hostess, I can blame our hosts for the "how") we are jamming on guitars and mashing out harmonies to "Annie's Latest iTune Downloads" when I glance at my phone. It's 1:30 AM! (If you know me at all, you know I am usually in bed by 9:30 at the latest!). I look at the kitchen counter. 8 bottles of wine are sitting up there like silent sentries to a strange feeling beginning in my gut. HOW? Did. We. Drink. All. That? I do the math....8 bottles, 4 people (and if you know me at all, you know my math ain't so good. I am the only person I have ever known that somehow managed to get a BA without taking a single math course!). So I figure I'm smashed, but I didn't feel bad...just tired.

We head home and pass out around 2:00 AM. I am up at 6:00 AM to work the farm with one hell of a headache. As the day progresses, things get worse. I actually considered going to emergency at one point,
'cuz I'm pretty sure I have blood alcohol poisoning. BAD. Real bad day...and I spend the rest of it in bed.

Up at 5:30 AM the next day for church (and if you know me at all, you know I sing in one of the church bands that inevitably ALWAYS plays the holidays). So I sing from 6:30 to Noon for all three services and have no kids for Mother's Day...one workin', one moved. Got a call. Got a text. BUT...the weird thing is, that Pastor Tim read my last poem in church. I've never heard my poetry read out loud before, especially not in church ('cuz if you know me at all, you know I have a 'potty pen'). Very strange sensation for me. It actually sounded okay...like I hadn't in fact written it, but was listening to someone else's words.

Strange weekend. Strange post. I think I'm still a little wacked from the wine. Tried a little hair of the dog on Sunday but couldn't stomach the stuff. Might have ruined it for me for good (but if you know me at all, you know it's not the first time I've said that!)