Something I heard a hundred times this weekend: "My, you sure do have a lot of socks!"
Really? Fuck, all this time I thought I worked at an umbrella store. Heeeere's your sign.
Then on Sunday I had to go to the emergency room. It was very strange. First bit of strangeness: Tootsie actually let me pet her. Second bit of strangeness: my left index finger started burning as I was petting her. I brushed it off at first, since I did have a hangnail there after all. But the burning wouldn't go away, and within a few minutes, my finger had swollen up so badly I could barely bend it, and a red splotchy line had developed on my skin from my index finger up to my elbow. So yeah, I was kinda freaked out and wanted to get it looked at. I wish my mom had been, or at least acted, a little more concerned. She acted like the whole thing was some colossal inconvenience to her. First, she snaps at me every time I open my mouth (especially when I mention that I don't think I have insurance anymore). Then, she wants to change her clothes before we go to the ER- while I'm worried about flesh-eating bacteria disintegrating my arm. Then, when we get there, we're confronted by this unbelieveably long wait, and the whole time she was either a) conveying her annoyance through exasperated sighs/shifts in her posture or b) telling me we should just go home, because my finger was starting to get better on its own. Now, it was late in the evening on Sunday, and I'd understand her impatience if maybe she had to get up early to go to work on Monday. But she didn't (I was the one who had to work Monday, hah). Had nothing happened, she would've closed out the evening watching TV at home. So I got one message loud and clear that night: I was less important than television.
I waited 'til today to post about this because I didn't think I'd be as bitter, and I'm not, but I'm still rather bitter. People wonder why I'm in the habit of apologizing for everything, even stupid things or things that weren't my fault or in my control- well, episodes like these are probably the reason why. I've been conditioned to believe that my existence is a hassle and a big waste of everyone's time, and that everything I do or say that isn't perfect is an intrusion or a hindrance.
After the two-and-a-half hour mark in the ER waiting room (good thing I wasn't leaking brain or vomiting up my liver or something, eh?), my mom's lack of sensitivity, coupled with the fact that I really wished Nick was there (he would have been, but he thought I was already in compassionate hands so he didn't think he needed to be there), got to me to the point where I couldn't stand waiting any longer, even though I really did want to know what had happened with my finger, which by that point was almost totally better again. I told the nurses I was leaving, and I got out of there. I waited 'til I got home to start crying in earnest. I just felt so... uncared about.
The time I spent with Nick this weekend was really nice, though. We got what I call our "pretties" in the mail on Friday (the dragon-themed cake set and champagne flutes I referred to a while back), and they're just lovely. We also got to do a lot of rollerblading in this stint of nice weather. And we've been having fun with Birth of the Federation- me especially, 'cause I keep colonizing all the good systems ;D And it's hysterical: the Romulans keep signing non-aggression pacts with me, even though I'm playing as the Federation in a Vendetta match (meaning that for me to win, I have to eliminate the Romulans and the Cardassians, and for the Romulans to win, they have to eliminate me and the Ferengi). So that's giving me plenty of time to build up the armada that I'll soon be using all up in his piece.
Nick got in his new color laser printer (he sold his solid ink printer to buy this one), and now we've been working on printing out the wedding invites we put together, hehe. They're starting to look really good, too. We bought pre-preforated and scored sheets of cardstock, and envelopes that fit the finished product precisely, which is wild 'cause we got the materials from completely different vendors and manufacturers. As I told Nick, "Isn't it illegal for things to work out this well?" ;) We spent $20 on those materials, plus figure in a few more bucks for printer wear-and-tear and postage... so, $60 tops for all the invitations. The cheapest set in the cheapest catalogue we found would've been at least $120. Go me, teh bargain whore ;D
And oh, teh annoyance... I figured the 'rents (Ray's not even my stepdad yet, but I refer to him and Mom as "my parents" anyway, 'cause it's just easier) would be back to work today, leaving me to a nice empty house, but nope, they're both still on vacation. Joy. I'll be spending the day holed away in my room or out with Nick somewhere.