TGIF


Glad to say that this week is over. Every planned election night party goes awry - in ‘04 it was me with a an achy tooth who went to bed early. And woke up in so much pain at 3:00am that I actually went to the emergency room (How did I rank the pain? 8.5, with 9 being childbirth and 10 being a gall bladder attack.) They injected me, which helped immediately and restored my interest in the election and gave me some Vicodin to tide me over until I could get into the dentist. My dentist isn’t in on Wednesdays, but Embot referred me to her’s, who was kind enough to squeeze me in. (Small World, of course. He’s a parishioner and one of his sons was one of my second graders last year. I remembered the boy’s name but couldn’t quite remember the face, which means he was one of the sweet and well-behaved kids. It’s the unruly guys who I remember immediately when I run into them in church or the Jewel etc.) Yesterday I went into work prepared to undo any damage I did while working under the influence of the Vicodin. I figured as long as it wore off by the time I had to drive to the dentist I would be OK. Then on Wednesday night I was haunted by doubts about several fax orders I placed while ‘under the influence.’ Couldn’t wait to hustle into work yesterday and pull the files to make sure I didn’t do something crazy, like order 1700 or 710 oplatky instead of the 170 that I wanted. Or red staplers for everyone in the rectory. And I don’t think I said anything inappropriate on the phone. Of course, the ER injection didn’t wear off until about noon, so I wasn’t particularly articulate anyway. (CHURCH and SAINT are not easy to say with a numb lower lip.) Luckily, other people were very helpful about grabbing the phones. Or maybe they just didn’t want me talking to anyone.

So now I just have a sore jaw, but I can handle that with ibuprofen. But I don’t like to talk too much. I know that yesterday I wasn’t particularly chatty with the non-parishioner from the city (i.e. Chicago) who wanted to get married in our parish just because our town is so darned pretty and she’s having her reception up in our direction. I wish we had videophones so these people could see how unmoved I am by their aesthetic quandries. (And I’m not talking about you, Embot. You are still a parishioner...And so’s your mama!)

Oh, and my sister was re-elected. She, her husband and friends were bummed out about Kerry's loss. This is one of those times I'm glad we don't have video phones.......she didn't need to see the smug look on my face.