When I woke up Friday morning, I just KNEW it was going to be a horrible, awful, no good day. I was just about convinced someone slipped some crazy into my corn flakes, when I got a phone call from our sister-site. It is a new low when you get your ass chewed out for something you had no control over all by someone you have never met. Oh and kicker? He is in a conference room with about 10 other people and they are all listening to you stammer on and try to sound intelligent all while resisting the urge to tell him to talk a long walk off a short pier. Either way, I at least accomplished that last part. I fixed it, reported the shenanigans to my boss and then requested that I go home early. Which I did.
The whole ride home, I was envisioning myself in my PJs at 3:00pm snuggling with my puppies on the couch while watching Oprah through my eyelids. I no more than walked in the house and my pager went off. Ran three calls back to back and finally got home about 8:00pm. All I wanted to do was go home and sit on my couch. Eventually, that is exactly what I got to do. And passed the fuck out.
Saturday was a pretty normal day. The Lieutenant had to work, so my sorry butt stayed in bed until 12:30 Saturday. What can I say? I was damned comfy right where I was. Errands and dinner with friends were later. And then the not so little little brother informed me he reenlisted in the Marine Corp Reserve. While I am damned proud, of course the worry wart in me is clawing it's way to the surface. Which reminds me, I need to replace the ribbon on the oak tree in the front yard. Even if the community association doesn't like it. They can suck it.
Yesterday I got out of bed a little earlier. To the tune of 11am. HA! This time, the Lieutenant was in bed with me and well, that doesn't happen too often, so I was going to enjoy it as much as I could. We watched a couple fishing shows and some cartoons and then decided that it was a good day to shoot off some rounds. We gathered the troops (and the guns) and I packed a nice lunch and off we went to the farm.
Now, I have had my gun (Winchester 3030 lever action) for about 5 years as it was the first Christmas gift I received from the Lieutenant, and I had yet to sight it in. (Sad, I know.) So, with the sun shining and the temperature hovering at about 75 degrees, we figured there wouldn't be a better day.
I shot off three rounds first. (I laughed when I realized what I have been missing for at least two years. Gosh I love shooting.) I was told I missed the target all together, but upon further inspection, I had a rather nice grouping, low and to the left. We fiddled with the sights some and everyone else took their turns.
Then we figured the women (myself and one other) should swap guns and see what the other was 'packin'. She had a 270 bolt action she uses for deer hunting with a scope. I despise scopes. I just don't like them. I much prefer my iron sights on my gun. But I gave it a whirl anyway. They promised me a kick similar to mine and boy were they wrong. (Evidence to follow.) I got three out and decided that I that was good enough for me. I also decided that she is far tougher than I, since she shot off at least 15 rounds without even flinching. (Unlike me who flinched on every damn shot after the first.) After the initial three, they wanted a pic of me shooting so I shot one more. Boy howdy did that not feel good. I finally went back to my gun and shot another grouping of three. Wincing every.damn.shot.
I gave up after that.
I just don't know. As it turns out, I don't think my gun is a good fit for me at all. It sits far too high on my shoulder. Or Harriet's gun just kicks too much for me.
OR I am a giant wuss. I used to be far tougher. I wonder what the hell happened to me...
Anyway, this is my shoulder about an hour after we finished shooting. Although I feel much better after my little therapy session, my shoulder hates me. As does my whole right arm. And my spine.
Someone get my a frilly dress because I am a pansy.
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