Actually, every weekend in September has been sorta sucky because the activities just never stop. We always have somewhere we HAVE to go and need to get up early for. And in case you weren't sure, early for FI-ance and me on the weekend is anytime before 2pm.
Back to this weekend. I had an event at work that required waking up at--wait for it...6am. That's not a typo, people. The sun wasn't even up yet! Christ the Living Lord that's freakin' early!! FI-ance was committed to going with me and he was not happy at all about the get-up time. Especially since he wasn't feeling so good and hadn't for a couple of days. But, he did, even though I released him of his stand-by-your-woman duty, and I'm really proud of him.
This event required sitting in the sun at a local park from 7am until 10:30am. I thought I would have a tent and was not pleased with the whole sun-beating-down-on-me thing. But, I remained calm and pleasant. We left when FI-ance complained of stomach problems.
Turns out his belly wasn't the only thing bugging him, he ended up feverish, having chills that shook his whole body, severe abdominal pain and constipation. This was particularly fun to deal with once I developed a runny nose, sneezyness, mild nose bleeds, achy muscles, lethargy and mild diarrhea. So, we were both ill, the house is a mess, the yard looks like a forest and dirty, sick-people clothes are overflowing out of the laundry baskets.
After our wasted weekend neither of us felt much better on Monday. FI-ance announced that his "poopy parts hurt", and even though we were sent into fits of laughter by this non-funny fact, we knew we both needed to stay home.
I got dizzy every time I stood up, but tried desperately to get some laundry done. And what was my reward for this? A snake in the basement. Holy Hell, people! Can I get a brake, please? I had to call FI-ance down to look at it and see if I was indeed correct in my assumption, since it was all coiled up funny. I thought it was dead for a second because I blew on it and it didn't move (I know...real scientific). Then I turned away, and looking back noticed that it's snake-head had moved. Blahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! Run! Get the cat! Hide! Grab it FI-ance! Do something!
We both ran upstairs, me to get as far away with Tux as possible and FI-ance to put on long sleeves, full pants, boots and utility gloves to hopefully not get bitten. Of course, snake didn't make it easy. When we got back downstairs it was gone from its previous position. I spotted it snaking its way behind the washing machine (thanks, God), and FI-ance used one of those old-people-can't-bend grabber things to catch it and throw it into the yard. I wanted him to put it into the empty lot behind us. He reminded me that "it can get through the links in the fence if it wants to, you know." I reminded him that "that is totally not the point. Not even a little bit."
I'm a bit scared to go into the basement now, even though I know the chance of the same or another snake appearing is probably slim (it's not like we live in the country). The real question is how much longer I can deal with dirty clothes littering the hall, thereby avoiding entrance to our own personal snake pit?