Yesterday Riley climbed up on a living room chair and upended the glass table sitting off in the corner by the window. Thankfully the glass table top didn't fall but the glass table lamp on top of it most certainly did. All of my sorted mail and papers went flying and broken glass crashed to the floor scattering across the whole room. Riley scampered and dove for cover away landing squarely in my lap as I sat on the couch finishing dinner. I guess I should be happy he views me as protection, despite my urge to beat him senseless. I won't be replacing the lamp anytime soon as I'm almost completely broke.
Last week I inadvertently left for the evening, not noticing I had left several vitamin bottles on the coffee table. By the time I returned he had bitten through a bottle of Fish Oil supplements and finished the two pills at the bottom. He had completely chewed the top off a bottle of iron pills. Those he didn't eat, I'm assuming they tasted bad, but he scattered the pills all over the couch. He had started on a bottle of baby aspirin but I guess I got home before he could do more than chew the label. He has ripped up another futon cover and bitten a hole in another bed sheet.
Oh, and last night when I got home, before the glass table disaster, I found that he had picked up a pouch of Crystal Light lemonade that had fallen on the floor and chewed it open. He scattered the contents all over the sofa.
I had a job interview yesterday morning first thing, and when I arrived across town I felt as if I was spiking a fever. This morning when I woke up, my nose was completely stuffed and I sneezed every 1/2 hour. Something horrible went on in my digestive tract overnight and well ... I needn't elaborate. On the plus side, the man I interviewed with was really nice and obviously pretty sharp and I think I did a great job on the interview. I doubt from what we discussed it will lead to an immediate job offer, but it was good practice and a nice confidence boost.
Last night I had a speaking engagement at a detox ward in a local hospital. My Gay-A home group does an outgoing speaker program at various locations and one of them is in a hospital down the street from me. I met up with the meeting chair and his buddy outside the hospital. We had to sign in at the elevator and then get buzzed in to a locked ward. Detox doesn't necessarily mean only alcohol, so we were speaking to addicts in the general sense, but they were a captive audience. They weren't forced to attend the meeting so some of the patients came and went, but they were all in hospital gowns and most of them looked pretty down and out. The meeting chair was pretty hardcore, with prison stints and heroin use and at least one suicide attempt under his belt, I almost felt like an addiction poser in this crowd, but I guess my story of pissing the bed, mystery injuries and an unrelenting decade of panic attacks and anxiety phobias won them over. Plus I always play the HIV card to add to my world experience cred.
An hour later we got buzzed out and I was heading home to start dinner and whatever fresh hell Riley had in store for me, but at least I wasn't in an open backed hospital gown locked inside a detox ward down the street. I'll live.
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