Clean sheets, an expired purple pill card, arachnophobia rears its ugly leg, & a short 80s party…

~Saturday~ My alarm was set for 10:00 this morning, but I got up at 9:30. I had some leftover cooked Italian sausage and some mushrooms from my spaghetti dinner the other night, and along with some cheese, I made a most delicious omelet with them.

I did two loads of laundry, one of sheets and towels. I can’t wait to sleep on my clean sheets tonight.


I stopped at the K-Mart pharmacy on the way to the gym, as I’d had a computerized call from them earlier that a prescription refill of mine was ready. When I got there, I found out that my “purple pill discount card” had expired, so I put off the purchase until I can call them and renew it. I’m not out of my Nexium yet, and I’m sure going to save $30 on it if I can.

At the gym, I was surprised no bells, whistles, or (lunk) alarms went off—indicating how long it’s been since I last checked in there. To break back into things slowly, I only did 150 (10 sets of 15) ab crunches, and then 30 minutes on the treadmill instead of on the elliptical machine like I normally would.


As I was leaving the gym parking lot, I cracked my window, because it was so incredibly temperate today particularly for a mid-November day, and when I did, a spider dropped into my car. My fear of spiders approaches arachnophobia, so you know things went downhill from there.

Still driving, I looked down and saw this little white puffy, pot-bellied thing crawling up my shirt and I squealed, frantically flicking it off me. That was the good news.

The bad news was that I didn’t see where it went. I pulled over to the side of the road before entering out on the main road, Western Boulevard, and I did a thorough search of the floor and my dashboard, but couldn’t find it. I was not a happy camper.

Back on the road, now on Western Boulevard, and driving along with my hands in the classic driver’s ed position:

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, right in bottom middle of my steering wheel. There it was.

It started crawling up to the right, and I removed my hand while alternately looking at the road and for something with which to smack the living shit out of that thing. In retrospect, it probably would have been better to have grabbed a business card in my console and just mashed it, but no, I went for my huge, folded-up windshield sunscreen.

Again, back and forth with the eyes on the road and my nemesis, when it was right at the top of the wheel, I slammed it with my weapon. The aftermath was one white leg stuck on the steering wheel, and I spent the rest of the ride home wondering where the other seven were. Traumatic.


At home, I devised Friday’s blog entry to finally be all caught up with this hectic week I’ve had.

I made spaghetti for dinner, adding the end of that leftover cooked Italian sausage and sliced fresh mushrooms to a jar of:


Good stuff.


I met Joe at Flex at 10:00, where it was, “An 80s Party,” night. A couple of things about this:

  1. I must have slept through the 80s, because without fail, whenever I go to anything music-related to the 80s, I don’t recognize a majority, and I mean a large majority, of the songs, nor do I like them. (Actually, I’m quite sure I worked through the 80s, as that was my first decade at IBM, and “keeping up with the Joneses,” mostly in terms of working 60- to 70-hour weeks to keep getting promotions, was important to me back then.)
  2. I don’t know where the crowd that was there came from tonight. It was like Flex advertised the event in completely different advertising venues than normal.

What I do know was that it wasn’t a-working for me, and after being there an hour-and-fifteen minutes, I said to Joe, “Let me buy you one more drink before I go.” I did, and I did.

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