A lesson in driving

Thomas likes to say I have road rage. I like to say that I like to discuss with people the different ways that they can enhance their driving experience. Like using turn signals, and not cutting me off, and driving at least the speed limit. I talk to people. With my windows up. Sometimes rather loudly, but it's not rage. Most days.

So yesterday, I had to take Boo to the vet. I don't think I mentioned it, but Butthead went out and got himself run over a couple of weeks ago. This was not so much a followup to his "come to the light, no don't, cause it's headlights" experience as it was a followup to his being put on Prozac (for reasons yet to be explained here, but trust me, he needed it). He had to have some labwork done to make sure that the Prozac wasn't destroying his liver, so I got him in the car and took off to the vet. We switched vets recently to Broad Ripple Animal Clinic, mainly because they are amazing. The only problem is that they are about a half hour away in traffic, and Boo doesn't always like being in the car.

He was doing pretty well this time. He was actually doing better than me, because I drove the first fifteen minutes or so at speeds that meant I never was able to shift out of second gear. Good heavens. And let's just say that my fellow drivers were not listening to my suggestions on how to enhance their driving experience. ::sigh:: So I was about halfway there, taking a route where I knew there was construction, and I suddenly came to an abrupt stop. With seven minutes left to make a fifteen minute trip. I was not happy. We were sitting in gridlock, so I called the vet to see if they'd even see him if we were late. YAY! They would. Those people are amazing, I tell you.

I wasn't any happier sitting there, though, and the more I sat there, the more unhappy I got, because Boo was getting upset. Honestly, I'm not sure if he was upset more about the ride, or lack thereof, or if he was upset because I was upset, but he was definitely getting fidgety. Next thing you know, I heard that fateful noise. The one that says something's gonna erupt, and it ain't a volcano in Iceland. Damn! And his window was up -- the Yarus doesn't have power windows, so I couldn't shove his head out. I grabbed his head just in time to keep him from barfing all over his (cloth) seat.

He vomited straight into my purse.

Maybe it was God's vengeance on my driving lessons to those around me. Maybe Boo just didn't like the Black Eyed Peas song on the radio (ironically, "I Gotta Feeling"). Maybe he was just flat out carsick from all the shifting or lack thereof, but he did look pretty remorseful as I stared down at the mess that was now my handbag. I couldn't stop, because we were still in the construction, and we were late, so I just kept driving. This is where being a nurse comes in handy, cause we nurses aren't grossed out as easily as other people, but man, this was my purse! Grossed out, no, but pissy, yes.

So we get to the vet and I had to try to figure out how the heck I was gonna pay for this visit if everything is covered in vomit. So I'm trying to find my wallet, which is buried in the purse, so I'm trying to rifle through it without covering myself in bodily fluids, meantime hoping that he hasn't covered my wallet in it too. Then I realized that I didn't have my debit card, so I had to go searching for the right checkbook, because I had three in my purse, and then see if it was actually dry. As I'm doing this, some lady pulls up a couple of spaces down, and was fighting with her HUGE and very CRAZY dog, trying to get him outta the car. So now I was fighting not only the vomitacious purse, but also Boo, who is trying to jump out of the car because he's all anxious about the car ride, the vomit, and now Marmaduke next to us. ::sigh::

I had to stand outside with him for a while before I could take him in because Marmaduke was lunging wildly at the front desk, almost jerking this lady to the ground, and by the time we got to the scales, I was having a meltdown. Fortunately, the people at the vet clinic are WONDERFUL, and I was able to regroup. Boo, on the other hand, was happy as a clam the whole time, was pronounced healthy, and off we went home.

I dropped him off and went to Target and bought this purse (shown above), in orange. With a blue wallet, in honor of Dan's Broncos addiction. And the red leather purse full 'o vomit? It got trashed.