Not to worry, this will be my last 'poor me' post. If you haven't figured it out yet, a huge part of what this blog is about is taking my frustrations and worries and irritations and writing them down right here so I can recognize it all for the petty complainishness that it is. Then you all leave nice comments that make me feel even more like that one person in every group that just has to complain, complain, complain about everything. Ah well. At least we know our jobs.
So, what do you want first: the good news or the bad news?
The first thing that comes to mind is a bad news thing so...
Bad: You know it is not a good thing when your teenage daughter hands you her $162 paycheck and sobs "Here you can have this." Even the fleeting idea of a new pair of UGGs does not distract you from the realization that this is no windfall on your part. Once you determine that it is NOT, in fact, Opposite Day causing the kid who usually sucks money to start dispensing it, a quick visual inspection of your car will supply a piece of the puzzle as big as the scrape on the passenger side.
Good: No one was hurt... yet. Kid-ding. Possibility of a lesson learned about distracted driving that could save lives in the long run. Maybe a $250 deductible will make a deeper impression than a mother who preaches on and on just for the fun of hearing her own voice.
Like, what do parents know anyway. *eyeroll*
Bad: I spent this morning at the local endoscopy clinic. Yeah, those of you who are post-50 know what I'm talking about. I have now been videotaped from the bad end up to my bellybutton. I even have full color pictures. If I had a scanner, I'd share. Anyway, they say that the prep is the worst. That's probably true but I have to say that waking up in the middle of it probably came in a close second. Did I not mention my superhuman ability to metabolize anesthesia to that goose crew? Yes, I did, but partial credit should also go to my 'loopy,tortuous colon' and the fact that it took an hour longer than usual. No kidding. I have a kinky colon.
Good: ... a kinky, but healthy colon. I shouldn't need to resubmit to the process for 10 years and by that time I fully expect that modern medicine will have developed a much less personal approach to the process. Like say... maybe just fart in a jar and bring it in?
Enough of that subject. I apologize if I overshared.
Bad: My ears have not improved. I still have fluid in my middle ears. I have partial hearing in my right ear... if your voice is not low... and I can read your lips. My family and coworkers tell me they are getting tired of my condition. Ooh, not me! I'm having a blast. The asses! I think I'll fake the hard of hearing thing for an extra week or two just to get even.
Good: I get to see an real ENT specialist this week. Apparently after two weeks, which have seemed like forty, you get to move up from the quickie clinic virus doctors.
Bad: My dad is still in the hospital. He has had numerous ups and downs since I came home and I have been hesitant to report anything because it seems like I no sooner tell someone he's doing well and then he takes a turn for the worse. I claim that I'm not superstitous but really have no proof of it.
Good: Right now he is doing better than ever but shhhh.... I didn't say that.
Bad: My bed has now reached capacity at: 1 Me, 1 laptop, 2 cats (one on the keyboard), 1 dog and 1 napping daughter. I suspect most of the attention is because it is animal dinner time and only I have the keys to the food locker... or so you'd think.
Good: I don't have to think right now because I had anesthesia today and am fully released from driving or thinking for the next 24 hours. Sometimes it's not so bad to be me.
Peace, love, Jello!