The TV addict’s prayer:

“Lord, grant me the Will to give these new fall shows a fair chance, and the Grace to accept that they’ve been canceled come spring.”

Yesterday was quite possibly the worst day of my life.

It started like any other, with me rolling out of bed at 5:15 and jumping in the shower. About midway through the shower I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up, which actually happens fairly frequently. I have a weak stomach and mornings suck. Some days the simple act of brushing my teeth causes the dry heaves. In any case, this time was different… not only did I feel like vomiting while showering, I actually vomited too. Multiple times.

I decided I better call in sick, at least for a couple hours to see if it would pass or get worse. It got worse.

I spent the whole day alternating between feeling like I was going to throw up and actually throwing up. (I was just about to type “I’m not sure which was worse,” but then I remembered that the throwing up was far, far worse. How anyone can do it on purpose is completely beyond me. Those people have a much, much greater committment to Sparkle Motion than I.)

Late in the evening I took one of the anti-nausea suppositories that D had left over from her knee surgery (boy THOSE things are hard to swallow…) and that seemed to temper the pukey feeling enough to let me choke down 5 saltines and some ginger ale so that the aspirin I wanted to take to knock down my severe fever wouldnt burn a hole in my stomach.

So that was my day. Total food intake: 5 saltines and some ginger ale. Total food output: the previous night’s dinner from Hawaiian Charbroil and all liquids I tried to consume before the anti-nausea medication.

I would have taken it sooner, but it had the classic warning of “may cause “, and I couldn’t face the idea that it might get worse.

I get a lot of comment/trackback spam attempts on the various blogs in my bloglomerate, which I have always attributed to the ginormous amount of traffic I get. Until today, that is.

Take a peek at the top of my inbox this morning:

That’s 36 attempts, all involving diabetes awareness.

What once seemed like a random, scattered smattering of spam attempts now looks like a direct attack from one specific individual. Long time readers may immediately know who I suspect, but for the new folk I’m gonna spell it out.

I suspect that — for some crazy reason — Mr. Brimley is upset about the fact that he makes up much of the content here at nyquil.org, including my repeated outings of his… achem… personal dealings with hot young celebrities. This quick search will give you an idea of the frequency of his appearances here.

I believe this is just a warning of things to come, but rest assured: I will not bend under the threats of terrorists — no matter how tasty their oatmeal is. I’ll keep you posted; I may be forced to call for an oatmeal boycott.

Most apt RottenTomatoes rating ever.

Overheard at “Linens and Things”:

Man: If I hadn’t been here, I’d never believe it.

Woman: So what happened exactly?

Man: Well, she came in looking for a replacement knife to complete a silverware set that is no longer produced. I helped her look through every set in the store, finally finding one that is similar enough to replace the ones she’s missing.

The problem was, though, that we didn’t sell them separately.

“But all I need is a knife,” she kept saying, to which I’d tell her there was nothing I could do; she’d simply have to buy the whole set.

It was at this point that she broke down in tears, her words mostly gibberished by her sobs and sniffs. All I could make out was “wedding day” and “chardonnay,” but it was clear she was really upset.

Perhaps it’s my sense of goodwill that keeps getting me into these situations, but I decided there was one thing I could do…

I said, “We do have some bins in the back with mixed loose silverware from damaged or returned sets. I’m not supposed to let anyone back there, but I really can’t see the harm. You can look through them if you’d like. If you find a match, I won’t even charge you for it.”

She seemed really grateful as I led her into the back and showed her the racks of bins full of loose silverware. I must confess that I felt pretty good about myself right then. That’s when the door clattered as another customer came in the store.

I quickly told the woman that I’d be back after helping the customer, and that I’d bring a stepladder to help with the higher bins.

Woman: You left her there all alone?

Man: Well, I didn’t see the harm at the time. I mean, what could happen?

Anyway… I was a couple minutes into processing the return of the new customer’s defective Lean Mean Fat-Reducing Grilling Machine^™ when I heard a shriek followed by the most god-awful clattering racket come from the back room.

When I got back there, I found that in her eagerness, the lady had decided not to wait for the ladder. Instead, she tried to climb up the rickety shelving. Unfortunately, she managed to pull a bin full of spoons off the shelf, knocking herself to the floor in the process, crushing her to death beneath them.

Woman: She was killed by spoons?

Man: Well, there were a lot of them… I had never seen such a pile of spoons, and it took a full 5 minutes just to dig down to her unconscious body. I swear, there must’ve been 10,000 of those suckers.

Customer: Excuse me… I’m looking for something I saw on TV. It’s that neat automated steam press that the Aussie guy sells late at night. You know, “Yeeoo just sayt ayt and forgayt ayt!”

Woman: OH! You mean the “Iron-Z.”

Man: Isn’t it “Iron-X?”