The Shift

Major drama. This past weekend my computer was infected by a f*cking Facebook video. I called my sister in a panic, because it was my work computer, and I thought I would get into MAJOR SHIZZ if, you know, I infected the whole organization because I just HAD to see what was on Facebook!

Lord have mercy.

Thank goodness my sister’s up on these things and managed to help me download free software that took care of the problem. Because I am THAT computer illiterate.

Anyhow, this weekend I experienced The Shift. You know, that change that comes just before The Week. And everyone knows about The Week.

So, The Shift started Friday night. One of my running buddies – the incredibly sweet gal I’ll call “Petal” – was celebrating her 30th birthday…something I haven’t seen in almost 7 years. Since her gang is, you know, 30 and younger, they all wanted to go out at 9 at night. 9 O’CLOCK AT NIGHT! I’m usually in BED by that point.

Getting back to the point…I was running around trying to get ready and I stubbed my toe. I yelled a bad word (ok, maybe I yelled 6 bad words) and then started blaming the wall. The big concrete wall that has been there ever since I’ve lived there. The one that didn’t move when I was running into it. Yeah, that one. I would never have banged into it if I didn’t have to go out at 9 O’CLOCK AT NIGHT! THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!

The next day I watched a few episodes of Glee. And I cried when they sang “Somebody to Love”. Cried. My. Heart. Out. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the bottle of rum I was drinking. And then I got the computer virus, which was promptly followed by:

“Seriously? This is the stupidest fucking thing to EVER happen.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“I’m going to get fired. I’ll be fired and broke. And THEN what will become of me?”
“I can’t believe this is happening to me! (sniff, sniff) What have I ever done do to deserve this?”
And finally – oh yes…
“I hate my life! I hate my life! WAAHHHH!”

The dog was so confused by my behavior she didn’t know whether to hump her dog food or eat her pillow.

By Sunday I was a walking, emotional zombie. I went out walking the dog in such a fog that I didn’t respond to my next-door-neighbour calling me not once, not twice, but three times and actually trying to run after me.

Did I mention she is 80-years old and has bad knees?

She needed my help taking her garbage to the dumpster. And, you know, since she’s 80 and had bad knees, I said no problem. No. Problem.

Except by now I’m in full Shift mode. And by the time I get to the dumpsters, I’m thinking of crawling in with the garbage. I kicked the dumpster instead.

And then I tripped on the stick the dog was trying to get me to throw her. And then I yelled at her, this poor dog who’s been putting up with me day after day, this dog who now has its tail between its legs because it has no idea what it’s done wrong, and I started crying.

“You’re the BEST DOG EVER. I don’t deserve you!”
“Do you love your mother? Come here and love your mama.”

I finally threw that stick. And I’m telling you that dog was SO HAPPY to just RUN AWAY from me, I thought for a minute she just might not come back.

But she did.

I’m much better now!