Today the Muse has the Wine Flu, but the nut got out!

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As I walk around trying to unravel and piece together my night with the wine flu today, I’m constantly finding little notes to myself. I know when I drink too much I don’t remember, it’s like I’m on a break and that “nut” is on the loose. So sometimes I leave myself notes so I don’t forget the epiphanies. She must have been dying to break free.

The nut certainly took over from my estimates around 10:30 pm based off emails, blog post, text, drawings, and notes all over the place this morning.

The sticky notes….
As I walk down the stairs I immediately notice yellow sticky notes everywhere. On each one it read “This doesn’t belong here” stuck on shoes, toys, books, dishes, and random object that should have been put away. Oh that’s right, passive aggressive nut must have been cracking herself up last night over the sticky notes. So I dig further, I knew I blogged last night, but hadn’t really read what I wrote, but I remember writing it so it can’t be that bad so I move on to my text messages.

The text messages….
Have you ever been up at night and get a text from a strange number and they immediately text back, “I’m sorry you must have the wrong number.”? Well I did that a couple times, but then tried to engage in conversation with, “Oh I’m sorry. How are you doing then?” Guess the nut was lonely. Those went nowhere beyond that, but I chuckled thinking what those poor people must thought. Not too bad, let’s check sent email.

The emails….
I open my email and click on the sent folder. “Dammit, she emailed!” She actually was doing pretty good. Replied pleasantries and general responses to many emails that needed to be addressed. So far, not too bad, until I scrolled to the one to myself. As I read it I forgot this was actually written by me to me for me. I am completely delusional and really engaging. I wrote myself about all my memories and past lives (saving that gem for it’s own post). It was awesome and I’ve rarely write to myself with such details. It was really making me think I had tapped into the universe somehow…….until I start telling myself it was critical for me to get a pet skunk and name her Petunia. I laughed and moved on unraveling my night.

The drawings…
After checking everything else and breathing a sigh of relief I see I had my journal next to my seat on the couch. I open it to read and to my surprise I had drawn hobbit houses with my ink pen. Pretty cool, but rather sloppy for my work. I knew I was better than that and under the journal were some really impressive pencil drawings. I was pleased with the nut.

I was indeed very pleased with the nut, but unfortunately she needs to be locked back up. I need to learn to bring her out without alcohol and teach her to be productive. She has ruined me for the day when I desperately need to be productive. Hangovers are hell, but in combination with my medications they are even worse. I know I shouldn’t do it be we all need to howl at the moon ever so often. I just wish she would have cleaned, she does that sometimes. Always a gamble with her.

Oh I  played the song lost boy by Ruth b a million times too.

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All aboard the coo-coo train….it’s time for some musing.

  Let me start by saying “Yes, I have been drinking” and “You’re no better than me” in my best drunken voice.

First item of business cats, Why do you got to be assholes? Only once did I have a cat that loved me unconditionally and he had a heart attack when he was two, it’s a hard life loving me….even for a cat. But back to the asshole black cat who has found her way into the hearts of everyone in the house. I’m sure part of her dark plan to off me with nail clippers in the middle of the night and take my place in the house. Cats are funny, we really are their pets. She doesn’t like where I sit my glass of water. Cat, “Oh I see you sat water here, let me knock that off and water the floor for you. You’re  welcome human.” Or the constant meowing and purring like she wants to be loved. I reach to pet her thinking, “This is it, she finally loves me.” WRONG……Cat’s mind, “Oh no! Don’t you dare pet me like an animal. Follow me now human!!! I AM STARVING. My bowl is only half filled and I peed in my box SCOOP IT now human, NOW! NoW!”  I can set items of mine on the bar and around the house at random then sit with a glass of wine or coffee and just listen to shit hit the floor all over the house. Anyways, why you got to be an asshole? I like my clutter, but Trubul likes clean surfaces. The cat need meds, like yesterday!

I just completely lost track. Second, I decided I really want a raccoon.

Third, I hate that I gained 20 pounds from the fucking medication, I only took for two months. What’s up with that shit?!? Husband typical rational response, “Well honey, it may not be the meds, diet and exercise are just as important and well you are a spring chicken anymore.” Well thank you Mr. Obvious. Thank you for reminding me, but I think it’s probably just the medication…..and maybe a little too much wine. Did I mention I quit two days ago only to drink for this night?

Third, why is the nut drinking and musing tonight? To be honest to avoid a low, I’m celebrating my misfortune. Yes, celebrating my misfortunes of the past two weeks. My bank account is nearly $5000 dollars poorer. Unexpected expenses just keep popping up, such as my two flat tire in one day on each of my vehicles, new tires all around, Hooray! If that wasn’t enough the dog joins in with her problems. This weekend, Dog, “my ear hurt human, I am itchy human, my ear hurts human” As she wagged and bugged the shit out of me. I finally pet her and scratch her ear to discover the dog has scratched so much she has a hematoma completely bulging in her ear. Also overnight, ear and eye infections, and a flare up of skin allergies. Off to vet, $700 later and a scheduled surgery this Friday estimated to be another $700 the dog is walking around happy and stoned on pain meds and allergy medication. I swear the dog thinks she is my husband mistress tonight. I actually getting jealous. I need a good scratching too……more wine.

Forth, I don’t even know what this post started out about, but pretty sure I was mad at someone and ignoring them by blogging.

Lastly, “You shouldn’t drink if you’re on medication. It defeats the purpose  and effectiveness of the medication you are taking” and my response to myself, “I fucking know that and you have to howl at the moon sometimes.” Pardon my language, it’s the Marine in me and being around them for decades. OMG, decades make me feel old.

I shall toast and be embarrassed tomorrow. But being bipolar does not mean I can’t howl at the moon every once in a while.

I am pretty certain the cat beat the dog up.

The mysterious case of the blood spots

  I’ve spent the better part of my day trying to figure out a mystery just to remember i’m “nuts.” As I walked down my staircase I noticed spots on the carpet. There were a couple big ones and more tiny like a splatter or drip of a reddish brown color. Immediately, I go into “Who’s bleeding?” mode. Kids were at school so if one of them had hide an injury from me they did a great job. So then I check the dog and no sign of anything. So I went in search of the crazy cat. She probably ran into the wall and busted her nose. In my head, I was convinced the cat had hurt herself in a manic rage. Fun part was finding where she chose to hide from me. I found her safe and sound chewing up my phone charger. She wasn’t hurt but I wanted to hurt her. So now it’s a a real mystery. Who was bleeding at the foot of my staircase?

Now my mind is different than that of a normal person. Now, I’m getting paranoid, in my head I ask, “Is one of my kids having nose bleeds and hiding it from me? Oh my god, is it an undiagnosed brain tumor?” Racing thoughts continue, “Was someone in the house, got hurt and ran before being caught?” Just as I was convinced someone was hurt, or worse dying the kids come through the door. I rush them both with the third degree interrogation. No injuries, no bleeding whatsoever. Then out of my daughter’s mouth, “Mom, that’s spilled red wine! I know what blood looks like and that’s wine.”

Three thoughts on myself crossed my mind immediately. First, “you are batshit crazy” second, “did you really see spots and assume blood, death, and cancer?” Lastly, I remembered last night deciding I’d relax and escape the living room couch, lay in bed and read…..and yes with a glass of beautiful red wine. What I forgot is the stumble from the sniper attack to my feet. The the black cat of the darkness, Trubul had lunged at me and unknowingly in the dark the spill occured.

Mystery solved, touche cat. “Why the hell didn’t you remind me earlier when I asked you cat!?!??” Guess you were too busy trying to kill yourself chewing wires.

  

Ode to the great black box of wine

  
So if you haven’t heard Black box wine is a award winning box wine. 50 gold medals, 29 wine enthusiasts best buy awards. Definitely an enabler for shenanigans.

I am 1/2 the carbon footprint of glass bottles, so I am hoping Leonardo DiCaprio appreciates I’m doing my part to save the environment. Cabernet Sauvignon is probably the best, but honestly after a glass who really cares enough to ask “what is this vintage, variety?”

So how is this a story……anytime I precursor a post with wine it’s probably going to be thought provoking. If I start it with whiskey, it’s going to start PG-13 and as with drinking end up MA rating. I just want to make my readers aware of time stamps on my post, take note. Right now, I’m comparing a smooth glass of opus one to box wine and it really seems equatable.  That is a true musing of a mad woman.

It’s certainly not crazy

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