My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad (Mon)Day

I read a theory a little while ago, and have been driving myself mad trying to find it again. I just want to give credit where credit is due for its sheer brilliance. I’ve been reading comic strips since I was 4, and have a very small collection of Garfield books in the office, and somehow this never dawned on me.  You see, Garfield hates Mondays. It’s a huge running joke in the comics. He just can’t stand the thought of having a Monday each and every week and makes a big deal about how something goes wrong each and every Monday.  Everyone always laughed along with him, like “Oh you silly cat, I hate Mondays too!”

But people hate Mondays because that’s (traditionally, not in retail) the start of the work week. After spending the weekend running errands, grabbing drinks, relaxing, maybe cleaning up the house, everyone has to trudge back to the office bright and early Monday morning for yet another exciting work week of sitting at a desk and wishing they were anywhere but there.  People hate Mondays. Garfield isn’t people though: Garfield the Cat is a damn cat. He doesn’t have a job. He sits around the house drop-kicking Odie, eating lasagna, and sleeping with his teddy bear. He has absolutely no reason to hate Mondays because the start of the work week has absolutely no bearing on his schedule. If anything, he should love Mondays because that would be the day Jon goes back to work for the week and Garfield can nap without interruption.

Unless that’s the reason Garfield hates Mondays. Jon goes back to work, meaning he’s not there with Garfield for a good 8-10 hours a day. After spending an entire weekend being at home with his pets, Jon has to head back to the grind and leave his pets behind for a few hours every day. Garfield doesn’t hate Mondays because it’s the start of his week, he hates Mondays because it’s the start of Jon’s week. Monday is the day Jon has to leave after spending the weekend together. Garfield’s hatred of Mondays is actually his own little way of saying that he loves Jon, and doesn’t want him to leave.

I can’t believe I never saw it that way before.

Well, I had a Monday this week that would make anyone hate the day! My Monday events started thanks to Sunday’s actions, which were a result of what happened in my last post the end of last week, which I’m sure all leads back to Kevin Bacon somehow. The Amazingly Awesome Boyfriend and I had a big talk about his drinking and the person he becomes when he’s drunk, and he decided to make some pretty major changes in his lifestyle. To show that he was serious about this, he decided to do something that he had been promising me he would do for weeks now. When I came home from work on Sunday night, AAB was one his knees in the kitchen, scrubbing out the oven. He had some bright pink rubber gloves on and was spraying super thick layers of oven cleaner while he scrubbed.

Now, our oven hadn’t been cleaned in years. Yes, I know that’s nasty. But even my clean-freak ex-roommate didn’t clean the damn thing. Everything else in the damn kitchen is scrubbed and sanitized at least once a week. It’s just that damn oven that I never seemed to get around to. Damn.

I sat on the floor with the cautiously curious Bowser Kitten, sipping wine and updating AAB on the current work drama while he scrubbed away. I’d get up and grab him paper towels and scrubbing cloths as needed, but generally just let him do his thing. He must have been scrubbing that thing for a good hour and wound up with a plastic bag full of paper towels soaked in oven cleaner. After washing up and taking out the trash, he started dinner. He had been wanting to try two different recipes for pork ribs all week and was going to do both at the same time. After he threw everything in the freshly cleaned oven, I curled up with my wine and kitten on the couch to start season 9 of RuPaul’s Drag Race.

After dinner, I stayed up a bit later than AAB and started to feel really weird. I tried to get some sleep, but the room started spinning. After lying down for an hour or so, I found myself running for the bathroom. I spent the majority of the night either waiting for the room to stop spinning, or bent over the toilet losing my dinner. Just when my stomach finally started to calm down so I could get a little sleep, AAB’s alarm started going off.

After he finally left for work, I tried to just lay down and nap for a bit. I got up a few times and threw up what little was left in my system, and got a good 2 hours of sleep in. A bit before noon I started feeling restless from not doing anything and decided to put away the dishes from the night before. Except when I went to grab the first dish, it slipped out of my hand. It seems AAB did the dishes after a few drinks, and they were all covered in grease. So, had to rewash all the dishes plus do what was left of the dishes from the night before.

By now, I was feeling a little bit better. I decided to try and make the moo shu chicken recipes I had up on my computer for a good week. I threw my chicken in the marinade, threw it back in the fridge, and decided to check the oven for any dishes AAB may have left in there. He has a bad habit of throwing pans in there to get them out of the way. There were no pans in there, but I did figure out why I felt so sick.

It seems that when AAB finished up the oven while I was in the other room, he didn’t actually rinse any of the cleaner out of the oven. He soaked up a whole tonne of it with paper towels, but the entire inside of the oven was coated with a thick layer of toxic cleaner. You know, the same oven AAB used to cook us dinner in the night before?  He cooked our ribs and potatoes in chemicals. Basically, I ate oven cleaner for dinner and spent the night throwing up.

Of course, now I had to clean the oven out. I pulled out the racks, grabbed my sponges, and got to work scrubbing the inside. Somehow, while I was nowhere near the light bulb but still inside the oven, the bulb just decided to burst. It was so loud and sudden, I jumped. While inside the oven.  Slammed my head into the top off the oven pretty hard, while slamming my left elbow into the outer edge hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

After a quick concussion check and a shower, grabbed the mail. My day was starting to look up because there was a package from the website I ordered my new glasses from. I ripped open the package and tried on my new glasses, only to find out I can’t see a damn thing with them on. After checking the purchase order in the box, came to find out that they somehow inverted my prescription. My eyes are two completely different strengths (-7.25 and -5.75), and they put the left lens in the right side of the frame and vice versa. It took me close to an hour and a half between their live web chat and a phone call to get everything straightened out. Put those glasses back in the mail, and have new ones on order as we speak.

Finally got around to making that Moo Shu Chicken. It looks absolutely amazing. No clue how it tastes though because my stomach was too upset to even try it. So after cooking a bug lunch (with leftovers) that smelled amazing, I had to put it all in Tupperware and put it in the fridge while I munched on crackers and a bit of cheese instead. It was the safest thing I could think of to put in my rumbling tummy.

Finally, settle in at my desk to finish getting ready for work and do a little reading when my phone starts ringing. It’s my coworkers wondering where the hell I am. I’ve been starting at 5:15pm for days now and was on autopilot to get there for that time. Too bad my shift started at 4:15pm, and AAB wasn’t home with the van yet to drive me there ASAP. Grabbed my gear, strapped on my steel toes, and walked to work at full speed, somehow managing not to fall down in any potholes this time. Only wound up starting half an hour late, which wasn’t bad. My coworkers were great about it though. They weren’t upset that I was late. I’m never late. I usually show up a good 30 minutes early for my shifts just in case it’s super busy and they need me to start early. When I wasn’t there by 4:15 they were legitimately worried. They thought I had fallen on my way in again and was laying in the middle of the sidewalk while people just walked around me.

The rest of the night went pretty smoothly until my uterus decided to remind me of its existence. Because cramps seemed like the absolute perfect end to the day.

It’s Tuesday now. AAB made a nice ham for dinner last night, and I found out later in the night what it feels like to throw up ham so violently that it comes out your nose. Made the same discovery with my coffee this morning, too.  It’s 1pm now, and I’m still in my pj’s. I slept on the couch last night (to be closer to the bathroom), and have barely started my to-do list for the day. I made my “bed”, wrote this, did some dishes, and turned down a shift at work because I already work 6 days a week and need a day off, especially when I’m puking out my nose. Going to get a little cleaning done in the living room, take a nice hot bath, and get some laundry done later when the energy rates go down. Dinner is in the crockpot, and I might make some more cereal bars later.

Well, I don’t want to get too ambitious. I mean, there’s always the chance that this could turn into a very Monday-esque Tuesday.


That’s Not How This Works!

I just walked out of my bedroom and saw this. I think it’s supposed to be a chicken cooking in a crock pot.

I think.

How the hell is this supposed to cook? I mean, the bird is sticking out of the damn crock pot. The lid doesn’t close over the bird. All the heat is escaping before it gets a chance to cook the chicken.

This is dangerous, Sunshine. If you cook meat wrong, like my roommate it doing here, you’re basically just hanging a sign up that says “Bacteria wanted here”.

Salmonella. E.coli. These things live in improperly cooked meat. I’ve had E.coli before, and it is the opposite of fun. It’s fever and chills and crapping your insides out until you feel so weak you might pass out. It’s bloody poop, and bringing stool samples to your doctor. It’s pain and nausea weakness.

The worst part of that chicken “cooking” in my kitchen is that it is spreading germs all over the area it’s cooking in. When he’s done cooking that thing, I have to sanitize the counters, stove, surrounding appliances, everything. 

And this isn’t some young kid who has never lived on his own before who is doing this. My roommate is a 46 year old man who has lived on his own for years.

Do yourself a favour Sunshine: learn how to cook safely. Watch a little Gordon Ramsay or John Taffer and listen to their food safety rants. Google how to cook things. Clean up after yourself properly. 

You don’t want food poisoning. And you really don’t want to randomly be called out on your roommate’s blog either.