A Very Bad Monday Morning

There are mornings where unexpectedly finding a very dried out dead frog in the floorboards of your car is not the lowest point in your morning…

It was a very full weekend. It was a good weekend, but still very full. I was sick on Friday so I couldn’t do any of my normal weekend prep. (But I did officially come off the GAPS diet and we ordered pizza so I didn’t have to cook supper either. Yay!) Saturday we went out to Cracked Pepper to celebrate the end of GAPS with eclairs, did all our Sunday prep and Saturday chores, got ready to spend the weekend out with Colton’s family and attend a birthday party, attended said birthday party and then drove out to the farm. Sunday was church and fellowship meal and then back out to the farm and being social and staying up too late being even more social.

Like I said, it was a good weekend, and it was full of fun stuff. But there is a vital fact that needs to be mentioned, even more important than the fact that I wasn’t sleeping in my own bed for two nights, or that my introvert self was done being social, or that I was eating different food that I had been in months, or even that my hormones were verging on the cranky stage anyway. This vital fact is that in all the chaos, I missed taking my thyroid pills Sunday and Monday mornings.

By Monday morning I was a mess. It was cold outside and I couldn’t quite get warm, I was irritable, I was tired, everything just felt wrong in an indefinable way, and I didn’t like any of it, but I couldn’t pull out of it. And then the abdominal cramps started.

By the time we pulled into the Samaritan parking lot I knew I wasn’t likely to get through any of the Monday chores waiting for me at home. I was just hoping to make it through the two minute drive back to the apartment so I could crash.

On that two minute drive the gallon of milk we’d brought from the farm tipped over, the lid came off, and our beautiful organic milk was all over the floor in the front of the car. And that would be when I started crying…

That would also be when an odd knocking noise started in the front of the car. I still don’t know if that’s a noise that’s going to come back later, or if I just happened to catch a paper in the tire or something at that really inopportune moment.

I got home, got some lavender oil (which thankfully eliminated the abdominal pain almost instantly), and went back out into the cold to deal with the giant puddle of milk sitting in our floorboards.

In course of scooping milk out onto the parking lot, I scooped a very odd looking rock into the cup. It was so odd looking, in fact, that even in that moment of just wanting this job over with, I had to take a second look. Because, you see, this rock looked very oddly like a frog. Even on a second look, down to minute detail, it looked like a very hard, dead, frog.

It’s a really good thing I didn’t touch it with my bare hands, because at that point in the morning I’m not sure I could have recovered from it. Not having to handle it however, I think the sheer ridiculousness of finding an apparently petrified frog in the floor boards of our car was something of a steadying factor.

I finished the job the best I could, and went up to IM Colton about the whole thing. (This took an extra ten minutes while our internet was being inexplicably difficult.) I crashed most of the day, and Colton even took the afternoon off and did dishes and laundry for me, and after taking a late dose of thyroid medicine (plus a nap) I started to feel somewhat better.

I have to wonder what all played into my crashing so hard on Monday, and whether I do have some amount of bad reaction to eggs that played into the whole thing. I am pretty sure that missing my thyroid medication played a big role, and that makes me wonder how I functioned at all without it. Besides that though, I really do have to wonder, how did the frog get in our car in the first place?

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