17-IV-2008 or Only To Me Can This Happen...
by Aaron Shurtleff on April 17, 2008
I have the worst funny story to tell, but I'm going to put in some filler first, so that you can't read the beginning from the main page, so if you want to read just that part, skip down a bit. I'll put in some funky asterisks (asteriski?) when the story starts.
But first, I need to go back to work.. :( Continued in a bit...
I see from my On Demand service that the first Dragonlance book (Dragons of Autumn Twilight) is now a movie. I really love the Dragonlance books (hell, I based my tattoo on the books, and that's a lifetime commitment!!), but I am nervous. I don't know how well the books lend themselves to movie translation, and I don't want to soil my memories of the books by watching a crappy movie (see Sphere).
And, yes, before someone else says it, the books weren't super awesome fabulous, and the whole thing got out of hand rapidly, with book after book after book for seemingly no reason except to make money, but at least the first two trilogies (Chronicles and Legends) were excellent, in my opinion.
OK, so Monday morning, my cat, Malachi (best cat ever! If he didn't run and hide when he sees a camera, I'd post a picture!) woke me up at 4:30-ish. He has this thing he does, where he jumps on the bed, goes up to my head, grabs a bunch of my hair in his mouth, and pulls and shakes to let me know he's hungry. It's cuter than it sounds, trust me! :) Anyways, I get up to feed him, and I'm feeling a bit light-headed and woozy, but nothing too major, I figured. Oh, and it's also important to mention that my wife is out of the country in Mexico for work, so it's just the cats and I. Just the five of us. So, I feed the cats, and I'm headed back upstairs, and I start to feel very very ill. So I run for the bathroom, and I am sick (in the tub...I didn't have time to mess with the toilet). So, I know I'm not going to work, so I go downstairs, call work and leave a message on the machine, take a pill (I have some anti-nausea medicine that was prescribed to me last month), and head back upstairs to bed.
I think, at this point, it's best a take this chronologically. You'll see what's going on soon, when the action comes back to me. So, at 8:00 am, I'm not at work, so my boss checks his phone. No messages. We're busy, so he goes out in the field, and comes back at about 9:00. No Aaron, no message. At this point, he finds out that the phones are down (can't call in or out), so he has one of the other employees call me on their cell phone. No answer. He has another employee call my cell phone. Again, no answer. He finally figures, maybe there's a message, and when the phones come back up, it'll be there. 10:30 am, phones are fixed, no message from me (it's unclear to me whether any messages were there, or just not mine...). At this point, he's more than a bit concerned, so he calls the Florida Highway Patrol to see if there have been any accidents between Saint Petersburg (where I live) and Wimauma, FL (or Balm...our address here at work can go either way). No accidents. No he's even more concerned, so he tries to call me a few more times. No answer. He's more concerned, so he calls my wife to see if she knows what's up with me. No answer. (He has no idea she's out of the country, and cell phone range, at this point). So, he decides to call my wife's workplace (also my old workplace, as we used to work together). He talks to the head of personnel, and my wife's immediate supervisor, who let him know that Jen is in Mexico. My boss starts wondering if I'm in Mexico. My wife's employers call her cell phone, and leave her e-mail messages, letting her know that my work cannot seem to get a hold of me (but don't talk to her directly, since she has no cell phone reception). At this point, I'm now getting called by my work (my boss, and two different co-workers cell phones) and now my wife's work, and no answer. So, they decide to come down to my house to find me. The head of personnel comes down and is ringing the doorbell, and banging on the door, trying to see if I'm in there and OK, or dead on the floor, feeding the cats (and, yes, I found out later that there was an actual fear that I was dead, and the cats might have been eating me).
Cut back to me. I'm sleeping, and I hear the doorbell and knocking at the door. I'm even more woozy now, because those anti-nausea pills really wonk me out, but I haul my ass out of bed, to see what's going on. It's now 5:15 pm, and I've been sleeping about 13 hours. I get downstairs, no one's at the door, but my cell phone is giving me the "you have a message" beep. I look at the display. 14 missed calls. I'm thinking to myself, Holy crap! Did something happen? Is my wife OK? So, I'm listening to these messages, and they're all "Where are you? Are you coming to work? Are you OK?", and each message gets more anxious than the one before. Finally, the last one is my wife's work, saying she's on her way over to my house to make sure I'm OK. I'm thinking "What? CRAP!!" So I call work. My boss is glad to hear I'm OK, but he claims he never got the message. I'm just groggy enough to wonder if I actually called, or just thought I did. (Aside here: I checked my cell phone records, and I most certainly called!) So, then I call my co-workers to let them know I'm OK. About this time, I hear people on my front porch area, moving around my potted plants and doormat. I go to the door. It's my wife's boss and the head of my wife's job's personnel department, trying to see if we have a spare key hidden outside, so they can come in and see if I'm OK.
AND as if I don't already feel embarrassed and mortified about the whole situation, I check my e-mail, and I have a message from my wife, telling me that she got an e-mail telling her that no one can find me, and I didn't go to work, and am I OK. I had to send her an e-mail and let her know I'm OK, I'll explain the whole story later.
Could my week get any worse? I've still got 3 more days, so let's find out. ;)
The song of the day will be "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus. Because I love Iron Maiden, too! ;)
Oh, and does anyone really care that Martha Stewart's dog is dead? Why is that news? Renal failure, I see from the headline. That happens to dogs from time to time. I think that's what happened to my dog. That didn't make headlines on CNN.com!!!
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