the unexpected holiday

it began in july. about a week after our return from a much-needed trip to phoenix, my mother called to tell us that "the fam" is having a reunion in the mini-apple over thanksgiving. the fam i haven't seen in over a decade. to which i replied..."you realize that thanksgiving is on my monday, right? and that i have absolutely NO seniority at work, right?" we decided to see what we could see. turns out seniority really has no bearing on leave. it's first come, first serve. and no leave was being approved for after 15 october, due to the end of the fiscal year...on 15 october.

i priced airline tix. i priced hotels. i priced a minivan. we were looking at almost $5K for a 5-day trip. that was more than twice the price of our 16-day phoenix jaunt. no way. there was no way we could afford this trip. but, come october 15, i had that leave form turned in. first in line for the week of thanksgiving. and promptly forgot all about it.

in the past 14 days, ticket prices, hotel prices and even rental car prices dropped like a rock. we prolly could have afforded the trip now, had we not run into numerous unexpected medical expenses and some new car parts. oh well.

i have been sick off & on for the past five weeks. my supervisor mentioned my week of leave and asked if i realized that it had been approved. i generously scratched my name off every day - except thanksgiving. there was no point in taking off a full week when we weren't going on the trip. i got sicker. and sicker. and landed in the hospital the day we were to take off. seems i hadn't been sick off & on. i was just flat-out sick the whole time. my white blood cell count was off the hook, i needed IV meds and bedrest. wanna guess how long? five days....right through thanksgiving day.

i had to cancel my participation in parent-teacher conferences, a class party and a field trip, along with being out of work for three work days. bed rest is a hard concept for a mom of four to wrap her head around. but apparently i have been sick enough to actually get in the bed every few hours. i really needed it. i even broke thanksgiving prep into two days, baking ahead a lot of things so i can tend to the turkey and last minute details, as well as putting up the christmas tree. i can't believe it all got done.

on our menu for today is pumpkin cream cheese coffeecake for breakfast, a roasted 14-pound turkey with homemade sage stuffing, creamy baked mashed potatoes, broccoli & cauliflower in cheese sauce, green bean casserole, pumpkin-sage cloverleaf rolls, (2) pumpkin pies and pear crumble pie. the pre-lit tree is up and ready for decor, while the turkey roasts. and this year i feel i have so much to be thankful for, after my week of recovery.

i am thankful for my husband, my rock, who forced me to get back into bed, and played the part of my minion bringing me tea, medicine, extra blankies and foot rubs, among all else this past week. our housemate, brent, for picking up kids, comforting them when they were scared for me, and buying pizza friday night so i could bury my head in my pillow and ignore the world for the pain in my head. my four fabulous kids who feel like the world is going to end if mommy doesn't make them lunch, but will accept a substitute dad and brent in a pinch. my friends who have called, texted, and emailed to check up on me - especially the ones who stepped up and re-arranged their schedules to take my place at school events this week. it's nice to know that i'm missed. and my trixie-dog, for putting her chin on my bed and waiting patiently for her scratch while i slept.

there's nothing like being sick-sick to help one realize the joy of normalcy. i'll be back in the swing on friday. i've missed you all, too.

Confection in the box

{{names have been ever-so slightly changed. but if you work with me, you'll know who they are.}}

muffled snickers.

i can tell that the sound i hear is of several people covering choked laughs behind cupped hands, faces turned slightly away.

a smile plays at the corner of my mouth in anticipation of being let in on the joke as i step through the gate. a brief moment of cold fear slices through me in hopes that i am not the joke. my hands automatically check zipper and buttons to make sure nothing is presenting itself that should not. uniform is intact. i casually walk through the checkpoint to the time clock and swipe my card through the slot, waiting for the green blink and small chirp letting me know that i am officially here. the time is 0342 on a saturday.

i turn around to face my workplace, to greet my friends and survey the passengers already crowding the first lane.

oh.

my.

god.

whatinhell is in the box with maxine?

my eyes, unbidden, follow the flesh in form from ultra-processed-drying-bad-dye-job crown to flat-footed-brown-running-socks-over-fishnet toes.

my jaw drops in disbelief. snickers turn to outright guffaws. from other passengers.

s/he presents him/herself as a she. which explains maxine in the box. but it does not explain whatinhell is in the box with her. by now i have control of my facial features. a few of the men nearby are gagging. i have officially dubbed her "Confection." all i hafta say is that s/he really needs to hang on to that day job. the get-up for her night job is not cutting it.

turning and walking from the right to the backside, which is all i care to see of this particular Confection, her hair falls limply to her shoulders, covering far more flesh than the actual stitches of clothing cinched about her ample form. the blood-red corset oozes breasts like a mottled, pus-filled wound, her skin sporting a jagged almost digitized pattern of freckles. or age spots. or, maybe body paint - attempting leopard spots?? down under, rolls of chub squirm from their holding pen as she twists and holds her arms up. the hand held metal detector screams around the metal support frame of the corset. the gauzy, filmy, filthy swatch of black lace dangles from the edges of the corset in a sad attempt to become some kind of skirt. it fails miserably. as the hand held metal detector follows the fishnets down to the grubby brown stained running socks, i overhear a snippet of conversation from over the top of the glass enclosure.

"...just got off work from my part time job and had to come right here to catch this plane..."

no. really? one of her thigh high go-go boots falls haphazardly from the x-ray belt and sighs in a heap on the floor. "...and what exactly is a private screening?" asks the Confection timidly, as maxine and a supervisor, donna, lead her out of the public eye to resolve a particularly difficult alarm.

as she crosses my path, i can clearly see nip as her girls struggle to free themselves from the iron grip of the corset. eyeliner painted on thick and exaggerated, lipliner accentuating a not-quite-feminine mouth, glistening under glitter and gloss. with every flat-footed step, her breasts jiggle dangerously close to spilling out completely. maxine's face is cold and solemn as stone. donna is a half-step behind the Confection, eyes rolling and head shaking. behind the trio wafts a smell. not a scent of perfume, or lotion, or body spray. not a trace of sweat or body heat. it is a smell. it fills the nose and leaves no doubt behind as to whatinhell that stank could be. it reeks of wet garbage, armpit, and putrefaction reminiscent of, well, someone who has just left their part time night job.

woof.

and my day hasn't even started yet.