I had my damn good, took a shower and packed my bag, and now I'm in the chair hooked up to Beepy and letting her do her thing with Buzzy.
Even my tech is off today. Poor Miss Lorie has a terrible cold, and looks like she just wants to crawl under the desk and call it a day. I tried to do everything I could to cheer her, but nobody needs cheering when they have eight inch needles in their hand that they would probably just rather jab in your eye.
I'm kidding, of course. Miss Lorie is Buzzy's favorite, and he usually minds his manners with her very nicely
Today, of course, he decided to be a complete pill and refuse the first four tries at gaining access.
So now I have the next five hours to get my act together, and I think I know just the ticket....Flosstube.
For anybody out there who has not yet fallen down the glitter-strewn rabbit hole of Flosstube, I beg you to get comfy with a beverage and a magic blanket, tune in, and be prepared to spend the next eleven hours glued to your screen.
Flosstube is an introvert's dream, I tell ya. I get to spend time with all of the stitchy celebs, ooh and aah over their stitching and stuff, and I can do so without ever having to put on pants or leave my house! I don't have to worry about looking like, talking like, or acting like the complete boob of a social misfit that we all know I am, and if I break out into a full-on flop sweat (which you just know I'm gonna do), I can wipe a paper towel across my face without having to be at all dainty about it.
Here in the d-chair, it makes the time fly by, and that in itself is a wonderful thing. My fellow patients are always curious what it is that I'm watching that gives me such a peaceful smile, but I haven't figured out yet how to tell them that I'm watching people talk about, show, and do needlework.
Only one complaint, and it's a minor one...where are all of the canvas stitchers? I would love to see more counted canvas and painted canvas Flosstubers, but that's probably going to get me in a heap of trouble...given the Sharks and Jets thing.
But we are, though, all family, right? And sometimes even if your stupid sister annoys the crap out of you, there's still room for everybody at the proverbial table at the end of the day, and besides, your Mo-ther always made you promise to "make nice" even if she cut the hair off of Barbie AND Skipper and when confronted about it told you to buzz off and you spent the rest of the summer trying to keep hats on Barbie AND Skipper so their little heads wouldn't get sunburned and this lead to years and years of massive anxiety that followed you all the way through Notre Dame and now you can't set foot on campus without feeling like an enormous loser who just doesn't belong there and who spends her days talking to people in the internets who would probably rather watch paint dry but are just too nice to tell you that Stewey was the only reason they liked you in the first damn place and now that he's gone you are barely tolerable but somehow completely pathetic so sure they'll stick around but you better get your act together soon because this whole dialysis patient who has nothing else to talk about routine is getting old.
So that, my dears, is how you can turn an ordinary Futzingday into a Spinster non-mellow drama in one paragraph!
OK...time to close my eyes for a bit and let the machine do its thing. Here's hoping your Futzingday is completely futzy and you get to do all the things that blow your skirt up today! Come tell me all about it!