Day 355 "Slug Man & the Thai Parking Lot Assault"

 O0301.

O0301.

Today I was a slug. There's no other way to put it. I slept till 3. Mind you, I didn't get to bed until...

Sorry, I have no lingering memory of what happened after I finished the blog and passed out last night, not even a trace. For all I know Jeannette scooped me up from my fetal position on Blaze's floor where I lay in a puddle of my own, cold drool, and whisked me off to bed, tucking me peacefully into the guest bed with a soother in my mouth, while lightning bolts of pain shot through her lower back.

I had a rough night with the monster, though I don't blame the method we're using but the 7 hours we were out yesterday and the fact he didn't eat much, the little turd; still, rough go! It wasn't unbearable, as I knew my mother was coming to take him for the day, which helped me get through the shrieking hours and is why we took advantage of the opportunity to sleep our faces off today, after he was stuffed quickly into his grandmother's car this morning, and whisked him off.

So far he's all good tonight, asleep, his new monkey companion in bed with him to help calm him down. Perhaps we should have just gotten him something stuffed, I don't think that teenage bonobo was quite ready to shut it down and go to bed, though I suppose that could have been Blaze throwing poo at the door as I left. He's ornery like that at night.

We're relaxing right now and taking in some of the Canadian screen Awards. Congrats to all the winners. I was hoping to see Julia win for Package Deal, perhaps score us some new press, you know, having people go "what's Package Deal?" and then find the show after some googling. That would have been great. No doubt they did so anyway, seeing her among the nominees. I'm not sure who won as I didn't make it in time to see her category. 

We also had thai food tonight. I say that not because I think you'd care about what we have to eat day to day, unless you're a chef, or someone who wonders if the gleam of my greying hair has something to do with some food I eat. Well wonder away weirdo, because I shan't be getting into that on a daily basis. I mention the thai food only because it contains a story that makes me look like a bit of an ass and Jeannette would point it out if I didn't tell it. So basically the reason our thai food was cold, good as it is from this little place in Kingston tucked away in a quaint little place... was because I lost my wallet. 

She called when they opened at four, which if you recall is a mere hour after we woke up, ordered the food and was told it would be ready in twenty minutes. Well it takes 15 minutes to get there so, diligent as I am I started to get ready right away. Then I couldn't find my wallet, anywhere. Jeannette rechecked all the places I looked, and of COURSE she should, given my thoroughness levels when I look for things in places, but was also unable to locate the damn thing, Since I had no interest in driving without the ol' license, there've been a lot of cops around lately, also, what if someone mistook me for an assassin, my dark circled eyes for the dead eyed stare of a cold and dangerous man.., so Jeannette had to drive.  She wasn't happy about it. She had wet hair and it was cold and she had been so pleased with the idea of doing absolutely NO work in this little endeavour to get food after a day of lazing around that it was a quiet ride to the restaurant.  

I should mention before I continue that I did manage to find my iPhone, which I hadn't mentioned to you that I'd lost because it wasn't a big deal, given the fact I have a new phone that I love only a little less than Blaze and figured it would turn up eventually. Well it turned up all right, I found it under the recliner when looking for my wallet. It had a smashed face. 

I can't tell you how many times I dropped that phone in our relationship together and it never smashed or cracked or chipped once. It's been a tank. It was a shame to see it go in so violent a fashion, especially considering I was looking to sell it on some site or other for 300 or so, but given it's history I suppose it's not that surprising. I fear it was a suicide, after being replaced by an android device, but I try not to let my mind go there; I'd sleep even less. 

After I bought the food, with Jeannette's card, and returned to the car we decided to check one more time to see if we could see it in the light of the sun. That's when Jeannette said, "What's that black thing in the kleenex box?" to which I reached in and responded, dumbly, "My wallet."

She choked me for a while after demanding I drive home and coming around to the other side of the car, some pieces of her frozen hair snapping off, and then may have punched me in the face a few times before a nice old man pulled her off. Lebanese women, man! Feisty!  

How it got into an empty kleenex box at the foot of the passenger side seat I'll never know, though my suspicions, as always, point me to Blaze. I know it seems unlikely given his size and early years, but there's something about the way his right hand brushed against my jacket pocket when mom dropped him off today, the one containing my wallet, that makes me think he had something to do with it. I'll never know I suppose, but I no longer keep any of my valuables stuffed under his crib mattress. 

It's just not worth the risk. 

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