Just kill us

I made a third trip to the doctor this week and got 2 more drugs. I'm happy to say this last round seems to be helping. Now I wonder if I'm really getting better or are all the drugs just masking the symptoms?

I don't plan to do a damn thing until I feel better. I've spent all day on the sofa, watching TV, reading, napping. I even took a shower! That's a pretty big accomplishment for this week. I don't expect to be 100% by Monday but I do think I'll be recogniseable by my co-workers. It's pretty bad when you call your boss and he keeps asking "Who is this?"

I called my mom last night to see how her vacation to the Florida Keys was. She threw out her back and it was pretty miserable. Welcome to my world. She said she's been to the doctor every day this week and the doctor told her no caffine, nicotine, sugar, salt or alcohol.

I asked if that prescription came with a gun and one bullet.

The Limping Dead

So I've been sick since returning from the conference. I think we had a Typhoid Mary amongst us as no less than 10 people have come down ill. I went back to the doctor today for the 2nd time this week. 6 chest xrays, a breathing treatment, 1 shot in the butt, and a handful of drugs, inhalers, and 2 prescriptions later, I can breath and hear out of one ear. The good news is I lost 5 lbs in 2 days. I only need to be sick another 30 days and I'll be skinny.

The doctor said the strep throat appears to be under control but the sinus infection is still raging and now my ear drum is infected. Oh, and a little bit of fluid on my right lung. An overall improvement of .5%.

I popped in the office today to drop off my doctor's note and pick up some files so I could work from home and they said I looked worse than yesterday when I came in for 2 hours to catch up my desk.

Gee thanks.

(I'm just glad no one said anything about me wearing the same warm up suit I had on the day before.)

Poor little princess I'm not sure what she's been eating for the last 5 days. I haven't been able to move, let alone fix a meal. But I'm sure she's had all her favorites, chicken patties, spaghetios, hot dogs. And don't even ask me about Big Daddy. He has been pretty much worthless, leaving me to die in the bedroom. I'm pretty sure he hasn't so much as brought me a glass of water. I'll deal with him when I'm well enough to kick his ass.

I am about to go stir crazy. So yes, I could stay home tomorrow (I have another 6 sick days and 2 weeks of vacation) but I'm not infectious anymore and I'm going in if I can breathe and hear out of atleast one ear. I need human contact.

Can I borrow an ice pick?

Its all fun and games until you're in so much pain that if you owned an ice pick you'd puncture your own ear drum.

My boss said let's wrap it up at 4 pm Friday. We'd hard a long hard week and deserved to go home. I'd starting feeling like something had blown in with the storm the night before, itchy eyes, a little stuffy. By Saturday morning I no longer believed it was allergy related. By Sunday I was writhing in pain. Big Daddy said "Are you crying?" I'm in quite a bit of pain here.

As usual, I was left alone in my room to die. Saturday I actually had to get up and go to the store for tissues and drugs. On Sunday I crawled out to make myself some toast. Little princess did occasionally come ask if I needed anything but only because she wanted to ask me if she could get on the computer or go outside (and leave me to my death).

I struggled to the doctor's office Monday morning only to find out it was now a different doctor's office and I had to complete all new patient paperwork. I got into it with the receptionist and then the nurse said my blood pressure and pulse were a wee bit high. No shit?

I'm feeling a tiny bit better after downing all 4 of the drugs the doctors prescribed. But with a diagnose of strep, ear infection and sinus infection I bet I'll be home one more day. Now this is a torture all its own.

Ahhh, Home at Last

The annual management conference is a lot like summer camp. You catch up with old friends, make new friends, sing songs and you're a little sad when its time to go home. After 3 days in the country with days filled with presentations and nights filled with drink and food, its good to be home where I can take off my shoes and my bra after 5 pm.

I walk on water with most of these guys. I had several gags that I brought out after dark and the drinking was well on its way. The first night I had the remote controlled fart machine. I laughed so hard my face hurt and I almost peed myself. It almost caused them to come to blows, they were all accusing each other and denying it was themselves. We played a card game called Fact or Crap. Night 2 brought out the air horn in a can and the fake tongue that can be blown up like a balloon.

I had to escort several drunks back to their rooms and was propositioned more times than I'd like to remember. I had to bitch slap one of my best friend for getting fresh with me in front of all the guys (I can't have any of them thinking its ok or that I'll allow it). Don't worry he knew the next morning that he deserved it and apologized. Both nights also consisted of a couple of them drunk dialing me on my cell phone and my room phone. Of course I heard that they also drunk dialed each other so I won't let that go to my head.

Its kind of a let down to go back to work. I have to try to figure out what I used to do before I was consumed with working on the conference.

In other news, Big Princess called yesterday to tell me she is overdrawn at the bank since she came home for Easter at $36/day. Yea! I told her I couldn't do anything about it until I reached civilization on Thursday. I chewed her ass and then told her it happens to everyone sooner or later but it better never happen again. Balance the freakin check book like I told you.

I called home today to find out that Money our Persian died this morning. She was like 14 years old and we knew it would be sooner than later. Big Daddy was crying on the phone and that freaked me out. My first thought when I heard him say "I have some bad news" and he's crying is that his dad died (or something worse that my mind can't even name). I'm ok with it. We had her since she was 3 months old and she lived a pampered life of priviledge. I should be so lucky in my next life.

What’s up with greeting cards?

I never know what to “do” with them after reading them. Is there some mandatory hold time before I can dispose of them? Does it depend on who its from? Or what about the occasion?

I have decided to appoint myself the Definitive Card Disposal Expert. Here are the new guidelines:

Birthday cards:
Generally put on display from receipt until 2 days past birthday, then dispose.

Birthday cards from your insurance company, dentist, bank, Avon Lady or other institution:
Discard immediately after ensuring there isn’t a bill inside the card.

Birthday cards from people you wish you didn’t know:
Tear into little pieces without reading then return to sender postage due.

Christmas cards:
Display cards from family & friends festively, the cards can be left up as long as New Year’s day, then dispose by tearing the covers off and giving to the Girl/Boy Scouts for recycling at nursing homes.

Christmas cards from people you used to live next to but who moved away 10 years ago:
Only display these if the card is truly fabulous and you didn’t see it on sale at Walmart after Christmas last year.

Christmas cards that are really just form letters sent to everyone in the sender’s address book:
Turn these “cards” over and write “Who gives a shit?” and return to sender, postage due.

Thank You and Congratulation Cards:
Display this cards for one week IF you believe them to be sincere.

All other Thank You and Congratulation Cards:
All cards you believe you received just because the other person felt like they had to, discard immediately after reading and smirking.

Anniversary/Valentine’s day cards:
Display as necessary to not hurt partners feelings, then tuck card away to remember the good times.
Anniversary/Valentine’s day cards from anyone you are not having sex with:
Read, shudder and dispose.

Misc. Holiday cards (Easter, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, Yom Kippur, Arbor Day, Halloween and all other holidays you shouldn’t be sending a card for):
Read over the trash can and make mental note to yourself to not hang out with such losers.

Get Well/Sympathy cards:
These people took the time to send you a caring thought. Display until discharged from hospital or the body is in the ground.

Apology/Sorry Cards:
These people screwed up bad. Bad enough to have to send you a card instead of just saying the words to your back as you left the room. Do not make them feel bad by displaying their heartfelt note in public. Tuck away for the next time they screw up so you can remind them “three strikes and you’re out”.

Bad Hair Day + PMS = ?

See what happens when you combine a bad hair day with PMS.

(Cops get their butts kicked)

Rep. Cynthia McKinney, expressed "sincere regret" for her altercation with a Capitol police officer, and offered an apology to the House.
"I am sorry that this misunderstanding happened at all, and I regret its escalation and I apologize," McKinney said speaking from the House floor.

She entered the Capitol without passing through the metal detector that screens visitors to the building. Members of Congress are permitted to bypass the machines, but she was not wearing the pin that identified her as a House member at the time.

The officer, whose name has not been made public, has said he asked her three times to stop. She did not.

Terrance Gainer, outgoing chief of the Capitol police force, has said that the officer placed a hand on her and she responded by hitting him.

What's the worst that could happen?

Just to prove nobody reads my contribution to the departmental weekly report...I submitted in the middle of my paragraph:

“Gathering company vehicle/driver information for anal MVRs.”

Worse case... I claim it’s a typo and act mightily embarrassed.

The Play List

I’ve never owned a stereo…ever. I never collected music as a teen. The radio has always been just fine for me. The only time in my life I’ve ever wanted more than the radio is when I have to drive from Waco to Dallas. One hour of radio hell. The only channels are Tejano and Country (both cause my brain to bleed and dribble out my ears). I can listen to and even enjoy every other kind of music.

So when music started coming out on cd I didn’t rush to buy it. After all I didn’t even have a walkman. Since I didn’t own any cds there wasn’t much of a reason for me to shell out the extra money to have a cd player in my vehicles.

[Side note: I once asked Big Princess to cook me a cd. She just looked at me blankly and said “You want me to what?” You know, bake me a copy of this onto a cd. She then busted up laughing, “you mean ‘burn’ it to a cd?” Hey, I don’t burn anything. I’m a good cook, except for bread. Ok, now I’m just rambling…]

My current vehicle had a cd player as standard equipment. So I thought “why not” and bought a couple of cds. This lead me to longings of music from my past. So I bought more cds, cds compiling the best from the 50’s, 60’s, 70’s 80’s and right up to today. (my favorites are 50’s and 80’s)

As a result I have turned my kids--and by “my kids” I mean any person that has to spend time in my minivan--onto my favorite oldies. Its hard to imagine 13-19 yr old girls getting down to music of the 60's but its true. We're camping at a state park last week and driving down to the lake blaring Leader of the Pack. Vroom Vroom And they are singing it word for word at the top of their lungs.

Possibly as early as tomorrow, they'll get their first listen to the complete works of the Partridge Family. I'm waiting for it to arrive by mail. They are gonna love it, especially after I explain how hot David Cassidy is/was.

Come on, “I Think I Love You”, “Point Me in the Direction of Albuquerque”, “I Can Feel Your Heartbeat” you know you want to sing along at the top of your voice.

Once in a great while you have to pull over

Everytime we go to church we have to pass over Cibolo Creek. Mind you, as most Texas creeeks are, Cibolo Creek is a dry creek bed. Sometimes, after a good Texas gully washer, the creek will actually flow. And on very rare occassions the creek will actually flow over the bridge.

Sometimes you'll see people down in the dry creek bed, hunting for fossils and exploring. Now if the creek flows, everyone notices and will talk about it. "Hey, did you see the water in the creek?" "Yep, we got 4 inches at our place. I knew the creek would be flowing." But when the creek explodes over its rocky banks and flows over the bridge people come out and watch it. There will be cars up and down both sides of the road and people will be out just marveling at the amount of water in a place that is usually dry for years at a time.

We pass the creek atleast once a week, usually twice or more. Everytime we cross the bridge, everyone in the vehicle looks over the edge of the bridge and always in the same direction; upstream. Finally after years and years, one of the girls ask, "why do we always look at the creek?"

Because we're always looking for something whether its the ordinary, the unusual or the "pull the car over and get out."