oh god, they're back

01-13-00

I've got the damn hiccups.

Yes, I have them. I didn't have them for a while, I didn't have a bout of hiccups. I have them. With me, it's like a temporary affliction. I could have the hiccups for days. Not straight through, just periodically for the next two or three days. My diaphragm doesn't fully relax in between hiccup sessions and they come back.

I get the hiccups for the normal time, 5-30 minutes, and it goes away. Of course, I don't notice it going away, because if I did, they wouldn't go away. No, I get a break, anywhere between 15 minutes and several hours. They always come back.

Is that normal? Sometimes they really hurt, like those loud, embarrassing burp-sounding hiccups, and other times they just annoy the hell out of me, interrupting my speech and joggling my vision out of whack every 15 seconds. After 10 hours of intermittent hiccups, my lungs are tired, my abs sore, and I've got heartburn. Not feeling so hot. About the only way I can get them to stop for a while is to eat something, which sets off the heartburn again.

They started this morning at work. Aida and the doctor went to lunch, leaving me in charge of the place. Answering the phone was humiliating: "Animal Medical (hic!) Hospital, this is Bets-(hic!)-y...." One time was excruciating. A woman called to see if her dog was ready to be picked up. We'd cleaned his teeth, and I told her he was looking good, except that his chart showed he hadn't had his rabies shot yet, so I couldn't let him go till the doctor came back. The customer was totally understanding, but I kept hic!-ing. She laughed at me, and sympathized. I laughed back at her, and hic!-ed suddenly in mid-chuckle. "Huu-WAAAHH!" went my chest, inwardly. Ack. Two complete strangers, laughing like hell on the phone, over a stupid, uncontrollable bodily embarrassment. Gee, how's the ego today, Bets?

Ever since we got our new used couch last week, our loveseat has been standing on its end in the middle of the dining room. We don't have room to keep it, but we bought it new (and it wasn't cheap) just a little over two years ago. To give you an idea how not cheap it was, we got it at Pier One. It totally sucked, though. I will never buy non-rattan/wicker furniture from Pier One again. The couch was one of those sweet, poofy, super-comfy ones that sucks you in at the store and makes you wish you had enough money to buy it. John and I had just moved to East Lansing, we thought we were the shit, and we had a new credit card. I'm still paying off the damn loveseat.

So you can see why I don't want to leave it by the dumpster. The thing's like a big squashed marshmallow, sort of off-whitish (more off than it was two years ago,) and saggy in the middle. It unfolds to a very uncomfortable futonish sleeper. Two people sitting on it will form a human isosceles triangle. There's a slight tear in the upholstery, so GoodWill won't take it. I wouldn't feel good charging money for it. Our best bet is to leave it by the entrance to our complex and see if someone wants to pick it up.

This afternoon I came home and thought, gee. It's 65 degrees outside, I should really be out walking or reading or something. I should at least sit on the balcony. I noticed that the loveseat would fit beautifully on the balcony, with just enough room for the seated to place his or her feet up on the rail.

I didn't do it. How tacky would that be: our nasty, icky loveseat gracing the view of the building from the parking lot? Instead, I turned it around, stacked all the pillows in the house on it, and I've been using it for a desk chair all day. I'm on the cushions, with my feet up on the edge of the seat, leaning back on the pimp-daddy loveseat with the keyboard on my lap and the mouse on the arm of the couch. Just kick up the font size on explorer and it's the eBay surfing pit, right here. I am the shit, yo.