The Piper Is Paid, And The Infection Is Partially Slayed

Sweet Gummi Mary! I feel like a dentist sometimes! It's like pulling teeth to get one simple task accomplished by The Pony! Not sure what would happen without me being the gale force wind beneath his wings.

The Pony worked 11 hours on Friday. I was pleasantly surprised to learn, upon his arrival back at the Mansion at 8:00, that he HAD received the email link from the USPS to repay his salary overpayment.

"Oh, are you going to pay it tonight?"

"Probably not. I think I'll wait until Monday, when the shop steward should be back at work."

"Um. I don't think so. Did you read the email? Is there a time limit? A lot of links like that are only good for a couple of hours. Like when you get a code to reset a password."

"I haven't looked at it that close, because I was working. I'll read it after I get out of the tub."

"I think you need to pay it on Saturday. There's no need to wait. You already told your shop steward that you're paying it by debit, and she agreed. So just get it done. If your case gets reversed, you'll have to fight to get your back pay anyway. So this will just be one more week added in. At least it will be done, and they can't accuse you of scamming."

I didn't talk to The Pony again until Saturday (day off because he'll be working Veteran's Day on his planned day off) at 1:00.

"Did you pay your money with the link?"

"Not yet."

"What are you waiting for?"

"It doesn't have a time limit. And besides, I haven't been up very long."

"You need to pay it before you get in the tub tonight."

"I will."

About 5:30, as I was chatting with Farmer H before he left for the auction. here came The Pony on his way to his nightly bath in the big triangle tub in the master bathroom.

"I figured I'd just pay it now. My debit card is out here. I'm pretty sure I'll need the numbers off of it."

He had the screen open. He started pecking away. Mumbling numbers. Said it was DONE! And that he had a confirmation email. He took a picture of the screen with his phone. I told him to save the email, too. And said not to be surprised if he got another such notice, since he thought he had been paid for 3 weeks.

The Pony looked back at his bank account activity, and deduced that we were both wrong. He had been paid 2 weeks. So there might be another notice coming. Meh. If it does, it does. Mrs. HM will be on the case!

In other news, I am on my fourth full day of taking my Doxycycline antibiotic. Only Saturday morning, my teeth felt almost the right size again. The shooting ear pain has been gone almost a full day. The only issue now is dizziness, and a shooting vertical pain over my left eye. Maybe a sinus is trying to get attention. My right ear is still a little painful, as is my lower jaw. I didn't take any pain medicine for 24 hours. Just my usual nightly aspirin on Friday night with supper. Then again Saturday night with supper. However... I might have stopped too soon. I think I'll take an ibuprofen around midnight. It might help a bit with the inflammation. 

Still six days left of the antibiotics. You can bet I'm going to finish every single pill.

Some Hoof Sanitizer For The Pony

Every time I go to Country Mart, I bring home a little surprise. It's usually something that catches my eye, which I had no intention of buying when I entered. They might have wonky packaging in their deli, and expired foods on their shelves, but Country Mart has a clever marketer in their midst.

I was on the household cleaning supplies aisle. I'd picked up a 9-pack of toilet paper, because you never know when hoarding might start again. And a 3-pack of Puffs With Lotion, because I was down to one box. I really wanted a roll of paper towels, but that clever marketer must have exclaimed: "Paper towels don't belong on the household cleaning aisle! Paper towels belong with the paper plates and plastic forks." While looking and looking with slim hope that I'd just overlooked the paper towels, I spied THIS:

 

Mini bottles of hand sanitizer! Something you never know you need until you see it. The orange fragrance version in my purse is getting low. I've had it a couple years. Maybe more, because I know I used it when I shopped at the Devil's Playground where I haven't been since The Pony graduated and moved home, in May 2020. My casino purse bottle, with a cinnamon roll fragrance, is still over half full.

Anyhoo... the price on this 2-pack was $1.00. That is amazing! Remember how the prices got jacked up, back when you could hardly find hand sanitizer because the hoarders bought it to jack up the price? Only $1.00 for TWO bottles! I'm pretty sure it must be the kind that's been found to be poisonous! Surely you don't think Country Mart would take poison off their shelves, when they can command 50 cents per small bottle for it!

Heh, heh! I'm sure I'll be all right! It's LUCKY Hand Sanitizer! Maybe I should switch it out with the cinnamon roll version, to carry in my GAMBLING PURSE!

I asked The Pony if he could use a small bottle. For his hooves, heh, heh! The Pony said he could.

"Mine boiled off from riding in the LLV (Long Life Vehicle) when it was so hot."

"Well, it's not a brand name that you'll recognize. It might possibly be poisonous. So don't lick your fingers after using it!"

"I don't plan to."

Farmer H will just have to be unsanitary...

Forecast: Bright And Sunny, Chance Of Leg-Pee

Sweet Gummi Mary! I wish I'd read the forecast for Thursday. I blame this oversight on my head pain from the double ear infection. I just was not thinking clearly. 

The Pony had the day off. I was still in my OPC (Old People Chair), having slept in fits and starts, when I heard his shower running at 9:30 a.m. I took my medicine, and went up to bed. At noon when I arose from my beauty sort-of sleep, The Pony was in the kitchen making pasta for his lunch. I had him bring me a banana to the table. No use over-exerting myself.

"Did you send the email to get a link to pay your post office money back?"

"Yes, Mother. Before I had a shower."

"Any response? Do you have the link?"

"Not yet."

"Did you check?"

"Yes, around 11:00."

"What about now?"

"It's NOT an automated response. Somebody has to read it."

I went about my morning routine. The Pony ate and rinsed out his dishes, then went back to his room. About 2:30, I asked again through his door if he had a response.

"Not yet."

"Okay. I'm getting in the shower, then going to town."

When I got back from town at 4:15, having NOT gone to the main post office, because I had didn't feel like driving very far, The Pony came out to the kitchen.

"Did you get a link yet?"

"No! But I DID get a SPAM email saying it's from Louis DeJoy, the Postmaster General! It's like a Nigerian money scam. It was in my spam folder. LOOK!"

I glanced at it, kind of dizzy, noting that it was, indeed a scam. 

"You STILL haven't heard anything? Did you send all the right information?"

"Yes, Mother. I sent what it asked for. My name and employee number and the amount to pay back."

"What did you put in the subject line?"

[I forget exactly what The Pony told me, but it was the right info to catch attention]

THEN I SAW IT! On the sidebar. The SENT email. With a time of 2:34.

"PONY! Why does this email say it was sent at 2:34? You told me you did it this morning!"

"Um. I THOUGHT I did it this morning? I know I had it ready. I thought I hit SEND. Sometimes my laptop won't send it if I don't have the right things open..."

"Oh, come on! You didn't send it until I left for town!"

"Nooooo... You left for town later than you think. Around 3:00."

"Then you didn't send it until I got in the shower!"

Shrug.

"I can't believe you let me keep worrying and asking if you heard back, when you hadn't even sent the email yet!!! Why couldn't you just say, 'I actually was just getting ready to send it.' Or 'I haven't sent it yet.' JUST SAY IT!"

"You're making this a bigger deal than it needs to be."

"You have 15 days to make the payment! You got the notice on Monday the 1st. You haven't got a link to pay yet. Tomorrow will be five days gone out of your 15!"

"No. Only four. I GOT it on Monday. So Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. Four. You don't count the day you get it."

"You SHOULD have done it when you were off on Tuesday. But you wanted to talk to your shop steward first. What if you don't get a link by Friday? Then you need to get a check in the mail, and HOPE that darn post office can deliver it by 15 days!" You know it won't go out until Monday morning. And there's the Veteran's Day holiday in there..."

"Mom. It's not a big deal."

I beg to differ. Don't pee on my leg and tell me that it's raining. I've seen Judge Judy.

Kickin' My Butt: A New Adventure In Plagiarism

When we last convened, Mrs. HM was sitting at the kitchen table in tears from her painful right-side head. As soon as she was able to function, she planned to take herself the the Convenient Care catty-corner from Dairy Queen. Across a side street from Hardee's, and across another side street from her pharmacy.

I was the only patient. I was given 3 pages of forms to fill out. Handed over my insurance card and ID. While I was paperworking, a man and high school age boy came in. The desk gal asked if he was sick. The man said, “He says he’s too sick to go to school.” Three or four times, the desk gal asked if the kid was sick. And still, the man said stuff like. “He says he’s too sick with a headache or vomiting to go to school.” It was kind of apparent that the man didn’t believe the boy. It was already 2:30 in the afternoon, so I don’t know why they didn’t come in the morning if the kid didn’t go to school. Anyhoo… THEY GOT TAKEN IN AHEAD OF ME! Maybe that had a mile-long trail of paperwork from previous TOO-SICK visits.

Once I got called back, all signs posted on the walls said to LEAVE ON YOUR MASK. I thought, “Here we go again.” Déjà vu from my own office, where they didn’t even take my temperature! The sleepy pregnant nurse who took my blood pressure said it was 150 over 90. “Huh. Last Tuesday, it was 135/76 at my own doctor.” So she said, “Are you in pain?” Um. YES! That’s why I was there! Anyhoo, then the nurse practitioner came in.

She asked about my symptoms. Then said my right eye looked swollen. “Take off your mask. OH! The whole side of your face is swollen.” I told her my neck balls (using the proper term) were also swollen for the past three days. She squeezed my neck balls! YOUCH! She told me to open wide and give a big AHH. Then she looked in my right ear, and said, “I see an angry red eardrum!” She moved to the left ear, and said it was also infected.

After a discussion of my allergies to the penicillins and the cephalosporins, she prescribed 10 days of Doxycycline, 100 MG twice a day. I went to my pharmacy to pick it up, and a former student of Newmentia, the current pharmacist, was walking by the drive-thru window, and said he’d just gotten it ready, and sent a lackey to the window to wait on me. Heh, heh. When I read the information sheet, it said Doxycycline is used for infections like ACNE, and other bacterial issues. So that pharmacist probably told all of Newmentia-Town that I have pimples!

I looked up Doxycycline with my estranged BFF Google, and saw that the most common dosage is 100 MG twice the first day, and then once a day for 10 days. UNLESS it is a serious infection that COULD LEAD TO DEATH! Surely I was on a misinformation site!!! Anyhoo… I just took my 3^rd pill. I’m still kickin’. If I don’t feel better by Friday, I need to return to Convenient Care. So far, my ear might feel a little less stuffy. But my molars still feel too big for my mouth.

There's a catchy little tune I've grown fond of this summer, which lends itself to today's subject. I know ONE OF YOU will be disappointed that I'm not styling my story after a Steve Miller song, but suck it up, Buttercup. I think I've been more than generous in accommodating your tastes to date...

Anyhoo... this song is called "Fillin' My Cup," by Hailey Witters and Little Big Town. Have a listen to the first few lines, and you'll get what I'm gettin' at.

I will call my version "Kickin' My Butt."

It ain't the toothache, it ain't the sinus

It ain't the new plague they call THE VIRUS

It's an angry red eardrum fuelin' this junk

Kickin' my butt!

Rumors Of My Rest Have Been Greatly Exaggerated

I usually get by on 5-6 hours of sleep. Mainly between the hours of 5:00 to 11:00 a.m. I start in my OPC (Old People Chair), and then ascend the 13 rail-less basement stairs after I hear The Pony leave for work. My sleep habits have been disrupted by this agonizing pain in the right half of my head.

For a few days, I seemed to be improving. Maybe I was simply staggering my meds of acetaminophen, aspirin, and ibuprofen so that none wore off too soon before the other started. Or maybe I just had a relapse. Anyhoo... I've not gotten much sleep for two days.

Monday night, I was crying with pain while sitting in front of New Delly. NOTHING helped. The aspirin wore off, and the ibuprofen hadn't kicked in. I was almost tearing my hair out. SO PAINFUL!

I settled in my OPC around 2:30, and finally drifted off to sleep when the ibuprofen made itself known. Awake at 5:00, the pain started again. I fought it and fell back asleep until 8:30. Once again, that horrendous pain came back. I went to bed. Lying on my left side did not provide relief as it had before. Nor did lying on my back. I gave up on sleep, and went to the kitchen to sit at the table with HIPPIE.

Farmer H came tromping back from the courthouse, where he'd gone to prosecute Crazy Stick-Road Man over running him off the road a couple years ago. The VIRUS delayed the trial, and Crazy Stick-Road Man demanded a trial by jury. Unfortunately, after waiting all that time, a guy came out and told Farmer H that Crazy Stick-Road Man had pleaded guilty a while back, and the case was canceled. "Sorry nobody notified you." Indeed.

Anyhoo... Farmer H happened upon me crying at the kitchen table. He said he would drive me to the doctor right then, but I hadn't even showered yet. I DID tell him that I'd already made the decision to GO TO CONVENIENT CARE while I was in town. After all, it's in the neighborhood. Does not need a begging phone call to be seen for actual illness, and a drive all the way to Bill-Paying Town. 

Yes. I can't deal with this any longer. It is NOT getting better.

My morning did not get any better, either. When I was talking to The Pony (day off!) while throwing away the paper plate that had held a banana peel and some dry Fake Honey Nut Cheerios, I accidentally THREW AWAY MY FAVORITE PEN!

I didn't realize it until The Pony had gone back to his room after refusing to feel my balls. You know. My NECK BALLS. Those glands under your jaw bone. Which have grown swollen and tender over the past three days.

I grabbed the bill for Farmer H's SilverRedO which I'd written out at HIPPIE. And couldn't find my pen, which I'd laid on that plate to carry around the counter. Sweet Gummi Mary! That meant feeling down in the wastebasket, fishing for it. I LOVE THAT PEN. It's called a Zebra pen. Just the brand name. No stripes. It's a fine point ballpoint. I've had it for years. I think it originally came in a two-pack from the Dollar Store. 

Bending over hurt my head even more. I tried picking some handfuls of trash out, laying them on the cutting block. My pen HAD to be there! Where else could it be? Then I accidentally found it in the empty individual box of Reese's Pieces that The Pony had thrown away.

Finding my pen did not help my head. But the shower did! Unfortunately, I don't live in the shower. It was time for town. 

AND CONVENIENT CARE! Diagnosis to follow tomorrow...

We Meet Again, And This Time There Is No Excuse

You give somebody a break for not doing their job correctly, and what does it get you? A subsequent substandard display of cashierwomanship!

I stopped by the School-Turn Casey's to redeem some winning scratchers on Monday. Who should I encounter behind the register? None other than Young Lass, who last starred in a post from October 20! It was published on October 20. I think it happened the week previous. Anyhoo... my point is that Young Lass has had AT LEAST 10 more days of experience, to be trained to do her job correctly. AND SHE CAN'T.

I gave Young Lass my scratchers. At first I had high hopes. She scanned the winners and reached the correct total. I asked for my new scratchers. She tore them off proficiently. THEN I asked for one Cash4Life with EZ Match. REEEEE! Hit the brakes, grab the phonograph needle! 

Young Lass asked the other cashier for help. She must explain things like Farmer H, because Cashier 2 said, "Huh?" Then they both fiddled around, and got me a ticket. But it was WITHOUT EZ MATCH! So I pointed that out, because I am not in the habit of buying things which I don't want.

Young Lass asked the rotund guy who has helped other people behind the registers. He's very polite and patient. I think he might be a manager. He got it figured out for Young Lass. Made sure she knew how to ring it up, then went off to manage something else. Young Lass made conversation as she opened the register.

"Lottery is such fun."

I'm pretty sure she was not being literal. I'm pretty sure she was being sarcastic. Which does not sit well with Mrs. HM.

Pardon the Not-Heaven out of me for patronizing your business, and daring to purchase a product you sell! Sweet Gummi Mary! We've been through this before! Do you think you should only sell items which you LIKE to sell? Candy, perhaps? Bottled beverages? Something easily scanned that does not require conscious thought?

I think a period of 10 days is enough to learn how to handle all merchandise for sale in that establishment. I am no longer sympathetic about the possibility of inadequate training. I am annoyed by a lackadaisical, entitled attitude. Don't blame the customer for what they choose to purchase. Try a little introspection as to why you don't like ringing up lottery.

THIS Should Have Been My HalloweenTale

Farmer H went to the auction on Saturday night. Halloween Eve. We don't really celebrate Halloween these days, with the boys grown, and nobody wanting to drive a mile up a gravel road to ring our doorbell and Trick or Treat.

At 7:00, Farmer H sent me an email. That's how I knew he was sending me a picture. When I'm in my dark basement lair, a picture sent by text won't load on my phone. All it does is that spinny wheel thing, and drain my battery power. But an email will come in instantly. I don't understand that invisible air wave juju, but that's how it works here in the Mansion.

I thought Farmer H might have found some furnishings for Pony House. But when I opened the email, I saw his subject line: Present.

Ooh! A PRESENT! For li'l ol' MEEEEE?

 

Is that picture SPOOKY, or what? It looks like something out of a movie (I've never seen) like The Nightmare Before Christmas, or The Corpse Bride. 

It's actually a little chocolate cake in the shape of a heart. About the diameter of a grapefruit. It's in a container that looks like it might once have held an electronic "prize" from one of those game/vending machines in the front of the Devil's Playground.

Farmer H further explained: "Bought you a sweet"

To which I replied, "Because I'm so sweet!" Heh, heh.

Actually, there were TWO such (heh, heh, I first typed 'suck') cakes on the counter when I went upstairs. The other was in a proper Chinese Tupperware container. Farmer H said he's the only person who bid on them, and he got them for a total of $2. I have not yet sampled my sweet. He said both were for me, but I designated one to The Pony, who has also not tried it yet.

I'm just saying... Farmer H's presentation leaves a little to be desired. It's a perfect picture for Halloween.