Dear Reader,
Word Raccoon is throwing a hissy fit this morning. She didn’t sleep well, and she has lab work this morning. Fasting lab work.
First of all, since she didn’t sleep well, she reaches for the snooze button, but I tell her, “Not so fast.” Which pisses her off from the get go.
Then, she stands up and asks if we’re about to get Coke Zero to wake our sorry carcass up.
But we can’t. Lab work means nada, zip, nothing until afterward.
“Not even a whiff of coffee?”
Nope. I’m not going to tell her she can have water, because she’d just spit it back on me if I gave her some.
She flops onto her back and kicks the floor with her little boots. I didn’t even know she had boots.
“Why are you getting dressed in those?” I ask when she finally consents to get dressed and puts on jean shorts and a tee. She knows we’re meeting someone for coffee in a while, and we’re not wearing that.
“That is later and this is now, and it’s this or I don’t go to the stupid vampire appointment.”
Which is very rude, because she knows we really enjoyed talking shopping with the vamp…I mean, phlebotomist last time. I can report back to her about a store that had just opened when I was there last. I found awesome books there!
“And WR, you’re up early enough to water the flowers,” I coax.
I should know better.
“Screw the flowers,” she shrieks, claiming she’s starving. Now I’m afraid to let her near the tomato plant with its smattering of yellow blossoms.
I also stare knowingly at this beast who rarely eats this early, who regularly goes to the gym without eating.
“Don’t tell me we’re not going to the gym again today either,” she yells.
Great. Now she’s eavesdropping on my thoughts.
“Since when do you care about the gym?”
“Sometimes I do!”
Part of her peevishness, I think, is the lack of caffeine. Part is the lack of sleep. But another part may be because she stopped mid-project yesterday. She does not like that.
That being said, she’s not as stiff as I thought she might be from the ceiling tile tango, which is a mercy because she can’t take medicine yet either.
Ideally, she’d water the flowers, take her shower, and put on her clothes for the day.
“Ideally, you would give me a tiara like Princess Donut wears in Dungeon Crawler Carl,” she snaps.
“Let’s make a deal. You water the flowers, and then you can read a few pages before your appointment.”
It’s not the ideal compromise, but I know when I’m licked.
“Let’s make a deal. You put makeup on your stupid face and put on some damn earrings like a civilized person.”
She’s asking for earrings?
We might be in luck.
Don’t tell her, but I’m going to sneak out and water the flowers.
Please send good vibes. And all the Coke Zero you can spare, will you? But for after.
Wish the phlebotomist luck. She’ll be seeing us before the Coke Zero does.
Drema