Yesterday I had a doctor’s appointment on the Upper West Side. Since I was basically heading to a different state, I left the house at around 12:30 in order to get there in time. My appointment was long. It lasted nearly 2 and a half hours. They drew blood, ran some tests, told me I was probably going to be A-OK. It was good news but I was absolutely exhausted when I left and I was starving. I’m not sure what it is about doctor’s visits, but they suck the life out of me. I guess after 8 vials of blood, that’s to be expected.
I had a meeting directly following my doctor’s visit at my old office regarding a book I’m currently designing for them. Getting from the Upper West Side, down to Grand Central isn’t nearly as easy as one might think. (Although, in the end, I made a mistake that actually put me there quicker.) I was in Midtown by 4, just enough time to grab a sandwich from Prêt and a bag of their most potent, stinkified salt and vinegar potato chips, (which I can’t seem to eat more than 3 of at a time without wanting to rip my lips off).
By the time I left the old office, I was walking dead. I could barely keep my eyes open.
I got home at about 6:30 and slipped into something more comfortable. I decided to lie down for a quick nap. I lay on the couch on top of a throw blanket we keep overtop in a pathetic attempt to keep the cat hair from ruining our sofa. The other half of the blanket, the part that runs up the side and overtop the back, I pulled down on top of me. I was like a human taco; the blanket my shell, and me its meat. (Yum, tacos.)
About a minute later, I began to smell cat food but I couldn’t figure out why. Both Schmitty and Pook were at my feet having a cat bath. I figured it was their breath and my acute sense of smell was taking control again. I closed my eyes.
The cat food smell became stronger and stronger. Were my superhero powers becoming more intense? Was my sense of smell heightening? I hoped not.
I grabbed the blanket from above and pulled it down closer to my face. I stuffed my head further into the couch. My hand fell down beside my cheek. I let out a deep sigh. It was time for sleep. Finally.
Have you ever had someone point out a sound that you hadn’t heard before the person said something? Right after he or she says, “Hey, do you hear that annoying sound?” you find it and from that moment forward it’s the only sound you can hear? It’s as if Hand told the rest of my parts, “Hey, Parts, I’m wet.” Because right after that realization took place it occurred to me that Hand wasn’t the only body part wet. Cheek was wet, Upper Arm was wet, Lower Arm was wet, and Right Ass Cheek was wet. Parts were wet because I had been snuggling with cat vomit for the past however many minutes. Right Ass Cheek was wet because prior snuggling with the cat vomit, I had been sitting on top of the cat vomit contemplating the damned nap. Wetness was all around.
I got up, removed my clothing, and carefully grabbed the blanket from the couch. Little balls of half eaten, regurgitated cat food fell to the floor below me. I hobbled over to the washer, naked, a trail of wet cat nuggets behind me. I tossed the chunks from the blanket into the trashcan and then threw the blanket into the washer. I added my clothing and then retraced my steps in order to scoop up the trail I had left behind. As I bent down to pick it all up, a chunk of cat vomit fell out of my hair.
My belly began to gurgle. My cheeks became flushed, my saliva thickened; I was going to vomit. The salt and vinegar potato chips and their egg salad companion were about to take a shortcut.