Old and Tired!

We have had a difficult few weeks, to put it mildly.  First, Beto was hospitalized with dehydration and has spent over a week recovering at home.  Although I got too tired with the stress of his hospitalization, nothing could keep me from going to Laredo with my daughter to pick up my new saddle, which even as we speak straddles the back seat of my car. 

Unfortunately, three days or so before our trip, my throat began to hurt on one side and I noticed that walking the dog and trotting really tired me out; but since fibromyalgia tricks you into thinking that it is responsible every time you feel bad, I paid no attention to how I felt. 

In Laredo, even though we stayed overnight, I did too much on our first day.  That night I could have recovered except that our next-door neighbors were candidates for this year's "Colossal Butt-Bung Prize", awarded to people so idiotic and lacking in consideration that only a CAT scan could be presented as proof of the existence of a brain.  The kids and the father ran up and down the hall laughing and slamming the door to the room until around eleven-thirty, at which point I whipped open my own door, caught them in full swimming gear on their way to the hotel pool, and gave them an instant dressing-down.  It could have been my own state of dress, though, that shocked them, since I had my pajamas on and my hair looked like a victim of a Texas tornado. 

Although there was no more loud talking in the hallway, the kids did manage to slam the door to their room enough to wake me up periodically until about one a.m.  I was too tired to call the management, since that would have kept me awake even longer.

I got my revenge in the morning.  Karina and I woke up early, and I began taking our stuff out to the car.  Every time I left our room, I slammed the door hard enough to register on the Richter Scale.  There was a "Do Not Disturb" sign on our neighbors' doorknob, so that added fuel to my flame.  Gosh knows how many times I slammed that door, and Karina added her own dose as well.  I hope we woke them up each and every time.

Our car loaded and the last of our shopping taken care of in the morning, off we went to Nuevo Laredo.  At first we were going to declare Karina's clothes purchases for the girls, but it was evident we would be there waiting in line the rest of the morning, so we decided to go for broke and forget the whole thing.  But everything was odd--check-point after check-point, traffic reduced to one lane as we were carefully inspected by soldiers.  I guess we looked fairly harmless--a nice-looking lady and her ancient mother--and it was only late in the day after getting home and putting my feet up that I saw on the news that a car bomb had gone of in front of the Nuevo Laredo municipal townhall just about the time we were crossing the border into Nuevo Laredo.  No wonder no one gave a hoot about what we had bought.  The authorities were concerned about explosions (no, we heard nothing), not ladies buying clothes for little girls. 

By this time I had a cold sore on my lower lip and Sunday came with me feeling like death warmed over.  I invited everyone over for tiramisú and coffee in the afternoon because Beto and I hadn't seen our grandkids in ages.  That night I stayed up again, this time watching the election results; Mexico elected a new president, and several governorships were up for grabs.  The coverage was great, so once more I didn't get enough sleep.  Today is a disaster, so I am going to vegetate completely, see no patients, and live on Advil. 

It rained, though, soaking our lawn.  It even hailed, but my dill plants and cilantro came through just fine.  They are doing a lot better than I am!