zophael

I took the weekend off for my birthday and it has been nothing but poop since it started.

Friday I was sick at work again so I had to leave a little bit early to try and keep from throwing up on customers. I laid around my mom's house for a little while and then headed on home since people were supposed to be coming over later.

My sister and her husband showed up with both of their kids shortly after I got home and didn't leave until not too long before my friends got there. Not only did my nephew torment the hell out of my bird, my sister changed the new baby ON MY RECLINER. Yep, in the middle of the living room. Not exactly what I inteded that chair for.

Rick the roommate got home completely drunk around two (it was his birthday also) and pretty much chased my friends out being beligerant and unpleasant.

Saturday started out okay. I played some video games and went to the mall. Right before I was about to get ready for bed though John came over and informed me the Petey (my bird) was laying in his cage not moving. I picked him up and he was dead. His little toes were all curled up and he looked perfectly fine. I couldn't find anything wrong with him so I have no idea what happened to him. He was fine that morning even, eating his food and chirping like normal.

Then to top it all off the dog woke us up at four in the morning and demanded to be let outside. Apparently he had gotten into something that he wasn't supposed to because he had the runs. Every hour after that we had to take him outside. By we, I mean me because John had to be to work at six in the morning. Then when I was trying to take him out the last time he ran over to the corner instead of out the door and puked on the floor.

/sigh.

I'm thinking that maybe I should not try to take off another weekend ever. It's just not working out for me.