My night started off fairly good, Mom was off to bed and I finally had the house to myself, rude and annoying brother free! My faithful cats lazed around me as I sat at the computer choosing some proper house cleaning music. You know, that kind of music that makes you want to get up and shake ya groove thang? Yeah, That kind of music. Yet as I started to do dishes I felt this angry grumbling in my intestines and I instantly know this would be a night to stay in the bathroom. So ‘Brick House’ became I got to walk quickly but stiffly to the …’S*** House’ aka The bathroom. Nasty details aside, I got out of there nearly an hour later, slightly relived but in some annoyed pain.

So I go back to the dishes, got them loaded in, put the soap in, and closed the door and got it started. Yay! One thing down. As I look around the messy kitchen, I picture how Mom’s face looks when she walks into the kitchen. Like ‘Ugh, this mess again!” SO I started straightening things up. After all that’s MY job around the house, my form of rent, since I’m 23 years old. But this isn’t about living arrangements. This is about me..and why I’m a Pitiful creature on Sunday mornings.  The main reason is cause I KNOW I have to go to Church, Mom make me since I live in her house.

It’s 5 in the morning now, Stove is cleaned, front, top, the dial stuff, everything except inside it. My back had been hurting for two days now since I’d been hunched over pinning and sewing fabric to make my SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) garb, which is early to late Tudor. So to compound the stress of an approaching deadline of church at 8:45am, I have upper back pain, the runs, definite lack of sleep, and I have phlegm running down the back of my throat making me feel sick, and to me utterly gross for the guys and squeamish girls, my *ahem* certain ‘Aunt Flow’ hasn’t arrived yet and is due just any day now. If you catch my drift.

I have TWO remedies for this that have worked in the past to cure nearly all of the above symptoms: Ibuprofen and sleep, and my favorite, A HOT TODDY! It usually make everything better. But there is a drawback…When I drink a Hot Toddy I really have to go to sleep afterwards. And if I make one and drink it I won’t be present at church whether I go or not. Now usually when I tell my mom I’m not feeling well it’s usually turns out to be cause I had lack of sleep but last Sunday I was really sick with something that was like a fever. Most likely the same thing Mom had some time before that Sunday. I don’t want her to be angry or disappointed for my not going to church, cause she get’s militant about it sometimes.