1.20.2017

I'm currently applying for head of the neighborhood watch program

This all started, as most sagas do, at the eye doctor a few weeks ago. I went to a new doctor who drastically changed my prescription. I've been using up my store of old contacts before ordering new ones with the new prescription, but I went ahead and ordered some glasses online since my old ones were already a prescription behind my outdated contacts.

My new glasses showed up Wednesday evening. Before bed, I ripped my contacts out and pulled out my new glasses, excited to try them on. The second they hit my face, the entire room started spinning and I felt like I was looking through a fishbowl. James said I just need to adjust to the new prescription, but the dizziness and nausea came so fast and furious I thought I was either going to die or deliver a baby in 9 months. I took them off, having only worn them for roughly 1 minute, and was uncomfortably queasy the rest of the night. I've always been easily susceptible to nausea and dizziness, but ever since going through pregnancy and Hyperemesis Gravidarum, the smallest things will send me into a spiral of motion sickness. I figured this was partially from epic sleep deprivation, and I would sleep off the ickiness and feel normal in the morning.

After a fitful night's sleep due to the neighbors deciding to hang pictures up in the middle of the night, morning came, and so did the nausea. It wasn't bad, but it was just enough to make me feel squirmy and gross. I fumbled my way downstairs to find James grunting and fussing under the kitchen sink. It seems our drippy faucet had turned into a full blown plumbing malfunction overnight, and a pipe had leaked and flooded the cabinet. We immediately reported the problem to maintenance, and I figured they would be by that morning since they're usually very prompt. I dragged Gracie to Trader Joe's, my stomach finally feeling slightly better, and figured it would be fixed by the time we got home.

As I was lugging the bags of groceries through the parking lot, around the building, and up two flights of stairs, an aggressive wave of nausea hit me out of the blue, and I had to stop and kneel down on the ground to get my bearings. We got inside to find that the sink still hadn't been fixed. I put the food away, fed Gracie lunch, and hauled her upstairs for nap time. I was getting her changed when a violent wave of dizziness hit and made me stumble over. It felt like I had put the vertigo glasses back on. I waited for it to pass, but it didn't, and the nausea started to hit as well. I threw Gracie in the crib and literally crawled to the bathroom looking for my vertigo medicine. I couldn't find it anywhere, and I fell into a blind panic since James was working late, I had no medicine, and I couldn't drive in that state. After some teary and dramatic texts to James, he led me to the last pill on top of the fridge. I downed it as fast as I could, and once it kicked in and I ate some lunch, I started to feel almost human again.

An hour passed, and Gracie finally talked herself to sleep. I was about to fall asleep on the couch and figured that maintenance wouldn't come until tomorrow, so I might as well get comfortable. I threw on Christmas pajama pants and a sweatshirt stained from last night's enchiladas, and I walked downstairs. I had just sat down on the couch with some coffee and a book when I heard a pounding on the door.

The maintenance man. Of course.

These men have the worst timing imaginable. They have only ever come while I've been in the middle of nursing a tiny Gracie or getting out of the shower, so I was anything but surprised when they came just as Gracie fell asleep and I was looking and feeling completely unfit for human interaction. The man banged around under the kitchen sink for over an hour and woke Gracie up a few times. She went back to sleep by nothing less than the grace of God, and at least we got a new faucet. He left, and I managed to get a few more chapters in before Gracie woke up for good. Once she did, I went upstairs to find her scribbling on her crib sheet with a blue crayon. In my haste to get her down for her nap before throwing up, I failed to notice that she had been hoarding a bag of crayons in her paw the whole time.

I curled up in a ball on the floor while Gracie played with her dollhouse. I wasn't dizzy, but the nausea hit me again, and I felt awful. And then I smelled it, wafting through the giant vent under the door housing the furnace. Marijuana.

We got a letter on our door a few days ago from the management, claiming someone in our building was smoking pot and they were determined to figure out where it was coming from. My knee-jerk reaction was to be terrified they would somehow blame me and I would get arrested, even though I've never gone near pot in my life. We smell cigarettes frequently, and I know someone has been smoking those inside due to how strong the smell is in the laundry room, but I wasn't sure if I had smelled pot. I mean, it's been awhile since I've been to a music festival. I got a whiff of what I thought was pot the other night, but today it was unmistakeable. It was so overwhelming I think I wound up on an episode of That 70s Show. After awhile, my eyes and throat felt like they were on fire and I was having a hard time breathing. I was having a total allergic reaction, and I started panicking about the fact that my daughter was breathing this in. I notified the office, and they responded with something about sending a patrol officer out in the evening to walk around the building.

I didn't want to wait that long. After watching a particularly horrifying episode of Sherlock and reading a book with very brave characters, I summoned my courage and crept outside in my pajamas. I tiptoed down the sidewalk in my striped socks, sniffing and looking for anything suspicious. I couldn't smell anything, confirming my theory that someone's smoking inside, but I suddenly saw one of my neighbors walk out onto his first floor balcony holding something between his thumb and index finger that looked suspiciously like a joint. I tried to hide behind a flight of stairs, but when I went to take another look, I heard a high-pitched voice squeaking "Mama? Mama? Oh wow, it's cold!" My child had weaseled the front door open and was toddling toward the 2 flights of stairs leading up to our front door, leaving me no choice but to turn around and go grab her. And just as I was about to solve the crime of the century!

I got her to bed and went downstairs to clean up the hurricane of toys she had left behind, but I could hardly stand the overpowering smell that was violently wafting through the air again. I put my shoes on and prowled around again, but I couldn't smell anything outside. Nothing! I had thought about calling the police, but what good would it do if I couldn't provide an address and you can't smell anything outside? Not to mention, the office had ignored my email providing them all the details and information I had acquired from my sleuthing. But no matter, I'll be on the case again tomorrow. And by that I mean I'm going to send James in to talk to the landlords.

Sherlock Michelle Holmes, at your service.

In the meantime, the windows are cracked to air out the living room even though it's freezing again, and my nausea is momentarily much better, though I'll be restocking my vertigo medicine before trying those glasses on again.

And at least now I know why I've been so hungry at night lately.

13 comments:

  1. I got a pair of glasses about a year ago and I swear they make me feel motion sick. The second I tried them on, I said to the lady, "These don't feel right" but they swore up and down they made them with my exact prescription and I would adjust and blah blah blah. I kept them, because I paid an arm and a leg and learned my lesson never to go to Vision Quest again. To this day it's okay for me to wear them around the house, but I cannot wear them when I drive or ride in a car or I will be down and out for a few days. Matt says it's all in my head but I promise you it's not.

    I'd be so mad about the marijuana. You should write a note and stick it under the door of the offender. That's how I'd handle it since I hate confrontation but also hate the smell of marijuana. Matt and I just signed up to attend our local Citizen's Police Academy, so if they give any tips on making a citizen's arrest, I'll let you know.

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  2. Ha, the pot might help your nausea. Lol.
    What pain-in-the-ass neighbors! That'd make me so mad!
    Did Gracie really say, "Oh wow, it's cold"? That's hilarious!!
    Hope you're feeling better soon!

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  3. I am laughing so hard at this. Also, I ALWAYS think I'm going to get arrested for things I don't do. I'll be in the car with someone getting pulled over and immediately assume I'm going to get arrested for those nonexistent drugs that are 100% not in the trunk.

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  4. If it makes you feel any better, the first time I tried on my "dynamic lens" glasses when my prescription last changed- I opened my car door into my own face and cut the bridge of my nose open. I was so disoriented by the glasses I didn't realize how close I was standing to the car while opening the door, and opened it right into my own face. NOT MY FINEST MOMENT!!!

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  5. New glasses/contacts prescriptions are the WORST, especially when they're wrong, because eye doctors have this thing about never admitting they screwed up your prescription and they imply you're just making it up when why on earth would you make it up??

    Marijuana is one of those scents that once you've smelled it and are aware of what it is, you KNOW what you're smelling when you smell it from then on. I can't imagine having that blasting into my house all day long, I would be PISSED. It's the same with cigarette smoke. If you wanna smoke and clog your own lungs and kill your own brain cells, fine. But don't subject me to that crap. Quite frankly it wouldn't be hard for your landlords to do a door-to-door check if they would get off their butts and go check it out the minute you called them/emailed them...it's not like it's easy to hide that smell.

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  6. I don't know if I would know what pot smelled like, to be honest. So I'm impressed/concerned with your uncanny ability to sniff it out. (Joking!)

    This brings back not fond memories of living in our apartment and having our window open and smelling the cigarette smoke from the downstairs neighbors wafting in. They were nice people otherwise, but smoking right under my window? Terrible.

    Also, I KNOW the feeling of trying on glasses and having them be wrong and feeling like dying. Curse my terrible eyes! I blame my mother.

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  7. The only reason I know what marijuana smells like is because of beauty school--but that would be really, really frustrating to have neighbors smoking like that and smelling it in your house! Definitely a downside to apartment living.
    We don't have that particular problem here (Fun fact: Malaysia has a death penalty for people involved in the illegal drug trade). But, our neighbors do periodically cook really, really strong smelling stuff--I think they're roasting chilies--it's the kind of smell that burns your eyes. And there's nothing I can do but shut doors because our windows don't have glass, just metal bars and screens, so anything outside comes inside. That's also the reason we have to leave our apartment whenever they fog for mosquitos because it's not safe to breathe inside!

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  8. Hey, so I can give some insight on the glasses thing. They measured your eyes wrong. You know how you have to measure where the center of your iris is from your nose so they know where to put the curve in the glasses? Is they get it wrong, you get vertigo. the percription can me fine but if the measurement is off....

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  9. You are so brave for venturing out to solve the mystery of the marijuana! Ugh, I am so, so, so sorry you're having to go through that. The only kind of smoke I want to ever smell around my dwelling is the campfire variety. Even though our apartment building is technically "no smoking," people still do it in the building at times anyway, and we've had to call or visit the office several times about it. And all they do (which is probably the only thing they can do) is just put friendly reminder signs up for people. Sigh.

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  10. Lol! You crack me up. And the way you nonchalantly went outside to investigate the gun shots during the inaguaration yesterday inspired me. My BFF got balls, yo!

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  11. "I was either going to die or deliver a baby in 9 months."
    You're a survivor, Michelle. A SURVIVOR.

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  12. I hope you pulled out your palm tree socks. If you can't beat them... Just don't let the cops see.

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