In other words: Thursday at the Neurotic Household.
This particular Thursday started out quite crazily. Oddly enough, last Thursday was pretty crazy, as well. As you might recall, last Thursday was the final day of school, the end of my sanity as I once knew it and the day my carpet was defiled by an errant neighbor child and his Baby Bottle Pop candy.
I’ll get to my crazy morning in a bit. First I thought I’d share with you just how backwards I am. Because nothing says “Yay, Caroline doesn’t have any cavities” quite like a high fructose corn syrup laden Slurpee.
We had initially planned to get an Icee at Target, since we were there buying boring things like ipod ear phones, swim goggles and a media card for my camera. However, the first story of our two story Target was closed due to some sort of pipe/water damage. It’s a good thing everything we needed was on the second floor. Well except for the bathrooms (!) and the snack bar, where the Icees are sold. Both are on the second floor, but they were closed due to the pipe problems.
I really should have used the bathroom at the dentist’s office like I initially planned. Lesson learned.
So, we did the next best thing: we stopped at 7-11. Hello Super Big Gulp of Diet Pepsi!
After our pit stop to 7-11, we came home and Caroline immediately took off running to catch up with her playmates. I, on the other hand, decided that a snack would be a lovely accompaniment to my Super Big Gulp. Something salty. I reached for the tortilla chips, but thought twice, since my tortilla chip restraint is sub par, at best. Instead, I opted for popcorn.
And that’s where I discovered this :
Doesn’t it look like a dog? Like a chow with that big mane of hair? Or one of those scary giant poodles you see in those dog shows? Or perhaps it’s more lion-like?
What, you don’t take pictures of your popcorn kernels that might or might not resemble an animal?
As I mentioned up above, my morning started off a little on the crazy side. The craziness actually started Wednesday night, but at the time, I thought my problem was fixed. Here’s the scoop:
Last night I checked my email and saw some sort of spam like email that looked like it was sent from me to me. I deleted it and thought nothing of it. Later on, when I tried to check it again, I received a notice that Gmail was locking my account due to suspicious activity. I had to wait for a text message with a code, which I would then enter to reactivate my account. This worked, I made a new password and went to bed.
This morning I tried to log in and Gmail/Google wouldn’t accept my password, but I was allowed to create a new one. Once I was able to check my mail, I had 9 of those daemon/undeliverable mail messages. All of them were like the spam email I received Wednesday night.
Was I hacked?
Along with those messages, I had a couple of Facebook messages wondering what happened to my blog. Evidently, when Google/Gmail thought I was doing something suspicious (as if!), my blog was shut down. Obviously everything is back to normal now, but I’m still kind of confused as to why this happened.
I emailed one of the recipients who would have received one of my hacker/spam emails had it not been deemed undeliverable and everything is okay on her end, which makes me feel better. I’d hate to be responsible for some sort of virus/hacker computer annoyance.
It took me a while to figure it out and as I was in the depths of confused despair, Craig called. I know, twice in one week! He was still high on life after his promotion ceremony and there I was, a frustrated, crabby Debbie Downer. Like that is anything new. Craig is much more tech savvy than me, thanks to his job, and was able to help out from afar. But, we couldn’t help but wonder if someone actually did hack my email, which contained some saved emails with important financial information.
Things seem to be back to normal, which is much appreciated. See, I complain about how boring my life is and then I complain when things get a little hairy.
I’m never happy.
I’m hopped up on caffeine, but never happy.
Actually, I sent an email to Craig after we finished talking on the phone, updating the computer situation and telling him all of my woes. You know, pent up anxiety, frustration, dread, worry, self loathing and lack of sleep (the usual) to which he replied “good luck with all those emotions.”
And then I replied “I don’t need luck, I need a large iced coffee and Xanax.”
I’ll gladly substitute the Super Big Gulp for the iced coffee, but does anyone have any Xanax I can borrow?