Josie's volleyball club team had their first big tournament in Rochester this weekend.  Josie asked me last week if I would volunteer to drive since we have a van big enough for her four b-squad team mates.  I said yes, because Rochester is only about 80 miles away so I figured it would be an easy one. 

Josie also suggested that since the first game on Saturday was at 7:45 a.m., which meant we'd have to hit the road by 6 it made most sense to have the girls sleep here Friday night so everyone would be ready to go on time.

What the heck, I said yes.  I made a lasagna for dinner.  Jay got home later to find the house full of girls.  When I told him the plan, he suggested that I take the Audi instead of the van, since it's a better car, gets better mileage, is more comfortable, has more trunk space than the van has cargo space and he knows how much I enjoy driving it and since he would be on the road with his team, he wouldn't need it. 

Everything fell into place beautifully.  I sent the girls to bed shortly after ten and hit the sack myself.  What could possibly go wrong?

I popped awake at 2:00 a.m. feeling the weird stiffness in my tongue that signals imminent swelling.  I ran to the bathroom and checked my tongue in the mirror.  No sign of swelling but I didn't want to take any chances; I downed two benadryl.

The good news is that the anti histamine has been successful in stopping any edema in it's tracks.  The bad news is that the stuff causes me to pass out for several hours. 

The good news is that I had three hours in which to pass out and recover before I had to hit the road for Rochester.  The bad news is that I couldn't tell for sure that I did pass out.  I couldn't really tell if I fell asleep either, but I assumed one or the other had happened as the alarm sounded what seemed like a few minutes later.

To cover my bases, in case the bennies hadn't knocked me out yet, I made and power drank an entire pot of coffee.

That was fun.

I felt fine.  Wide awake.  But usually after knocking me out, benedryl gives me the nervous jumpies and I didn't feel that at all.  Maybe the quart of coffee sloshing around in me eclipsed the after effects of the drug, I don't know.

We stuffed the car full of the girls' overnight bags (they were all in their game gear) and off we went.  It was kind of fun.  I do love driving that car!  The road to Rochester is easy and in the pre-dawn Saturday morning hours there was no traffic.  I had the directions to the  RCTC sports center and had no trouble at all finding it.  It helped that the sun was almost to the horizon so we could see what we were doing.

I helped the girls haul all their stuff inside and we quickly found the grown ups in charge of the team.  I had no interest in much of that because I really really had to find a ladies room.  Quart of coffee ninety minutes ago?  Screaming to get out.

Friday night I had toyed with the idea of sticking around and watching at least the first game but by Saturday morning, all I could think was that there still may be a chance that the benedryl I'd taken was going to affect me.  That wasn't a rational thought; I'd taken the pills almost six hours ago by now but that's one of the reasons I hate taking the stuff; it makes me stupid.  Anyway, the moment I'd handed the girls off to a responsible adult, I said "No tags back!" and ran for the parking lot.

The sun was just over the horizon and it looked like it was going to be a glorious sunny day.  I was back on the highway in minutes and floored it.  I got home in an hour.  Then I went back to bed.

I was up in my office working by 10:30 but it wasn't a good day.  One of the affects of benedryl, not to mention waaaaay too much coffee, is that I felt jittery and paranoid.  This feeling of ominous dread just filled me and I kept thinking "What is wrong?  did I see something suspicious in Rochester that didn't register in my conscious mind that my subconscious is trying to warn me of?  Am I having a horrible premonition?"  Finally it dawned on me; too much coffee and no food.  duh.  Again; benedryl makes me stupid.  I ate some lunch, drank some water and calmed the heck down.  Then Josie called to say they'd played two games and were having a lot of fun.  I told her to call me again when she was in her hotel that night and then I could really relax.

I felt much, much better in the afternoon so I ran some errands and visited a bit with Pam and then dropped in on my Mom.  Mom was feeling giddy, having just gotten her brother, who had been staying at her house for a week after emergency surgery, out of her house and back in his own.  Dad was happy that it was safe to come out of his office.

I got home just in time to watch Reservoir Dogs with Zack, who had also ordered a pizza.

I hadn't seen Res.Dogs since it first came out on video and I remembered that I liked it but had no intention of ever watching it again.  But when my adult kids invite me to do stuff, I usually do it.

Reservoir Dogs is a really good movie. 

Zack pointed out the discrepancy in the final scene; three guns, three shots, four deaths.  Who shot Nice guy Eddie?  Mr. Orange had emptied his gun into Mr. Blond and no one was pointing a gun at Nice guy Eddie.

Ah well.  It's good, but it's not perfect.

Zack went off to play hockey and I watched Cinderella Man, the movie that made me forgive Ron Howard for The Grinch.

I'll never forgive Jim Carrey.

 

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