Snakes. I Hate Snakes.

(Paraphrased from Indiana Jones - Raiders of the Lost Ark)

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while (yeah, the echo is deafening over here), but I’ve been kinda laid up with a migraine the past two days. The first day I tried to tough out and then went to an eye doctor appointment where they dilated my eyes. Oh, yeah. That went well, coupled with the new contacts plopped in my eyes (I haven’t worn contacts in over a year). I also picked out new glasses. Why do they do this when you cannot see squat? I have no idea what I picked out. Nothing like placing blind faith in the two complete, yet very nice strangers whose job it is to SELL ME A PAIR OF GLASSES. Egad. It is a wonder if I didn’t end up buying ones encrusted with Swarkovski (sp?) crystals.

Day two I had to call off work. I hate calling off work. I always feel like someone won’t believe I’m really sick. The place I work now is so much better than any of my past ones in that the two most excellent ladies I work with will basically hose you down with Lysol if you so much as step foot in the office if you are sick (Been there, done that, doesn’t feel so good. Kinda sticky.). It is almost to the point where they will string garlic bulbs around the office to ward off sickness.

My DH is sick as well – tummy pains. The guy just can’t catch a break this year. He’s going to the doctor again.

And finally, back to snakes. On He Wrote/She Wrote (the Jennifer Crusie/Bob Mayer blog), someone mentioned snakes. Which in turn reminded my of a story that truly reinforces my determination that there is absolutely no way in hell I will ever allow a snake as a pet under my roof.

A friend of mine I used to work with (one of the few I could share my Buffy obsession with), came in and told us that her husband’s snake (one of several) had escaped and they were having trouble finding it in the house. Days had gone by and still no snake. Then one morning she came ready to strangle him (the husband, not the snake). Apparently, overnight he had dumped a bunch of flour on the kitchen floor and left it there.

Didn’t he bake something and forget to clean up?
No.
Did he accidentally drop the bag?
No.

He wanted to look for snake tracks to see if the snake was going into the kitchen at night while they were all asleep.

FOR WHAT? A MIDNIGHT SNACK??!?!?!

Feel free to do your own heebie-jeebies dance. I know I do every time I think of it. Yikes.