Gene is fine!

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So Gene had his laser eye surgery today and he’s doing well. He’s sleeping right now. Maybe I should give him a sleeping pill at 4 pm more often (ha ha). On the way out of the parking lot at the eye center, he said, “HEY I can read the side of that truck!” He is very very happy (when he’s awake).

(And in case you wonder “When are you getting laser eye surgery, Elaine?” The answer is the twelfth of NEVER EVER. Yikes. Any procedure where there is a “flap” at some point on your eyeball? Count me out. Yeah it’s all “Blade free” but I’ll wait for “flap free”).


Snaked Again: Consignment Edition

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Okay, I haven’t told ANY of you I was going to do this, but here goes. In Cheesecake City, twice a year there are a proliferation of kids consignment sales. Not consignment shops, but actual sales (like garage sales). They are held in church multipurpose rooms, tents at the Lions Club, or the American Legion.

(Crap. Could I have contracted Legionnaire’s Disease?)

So anyway. A week or two ago I’m surfing CraigsList, eyeing all the cool baby stuff when I see an ad that one of the local consignment sales (there are 3 or more different groups doing these sales that I know of) is in need of volunteers. Hey! I can volunteer for stuff, I think, gleefully surfing to their site and filling out the little form to indicate my interest.

Fast forward to yesterday. My shift is in the morning. The sale actually starts this week but the group is setting up yesterday and today. I show up bright and early (on a Saturday! WTF was I thinking?) and help unload a giant rental  truck of boxes, Rubbermaid totes, etc. Inside the room, all the racks and tables have been set up.

By approximately 9:30 AM, I realize that I have volunteered (read: no $) to help this freak set up basically a giant garage sale where most of the merchandise is from HER. And the profit? Also hers. Think about it: a t-shirt sells for $5 (seriously: a secondhand kid’s shirt for $5? Really?). She gets the entire $5! And holy moly, some of these stuff was uuuugly. And smelly too. Yech. Anything that doesn’t sell and isn’t picked up by the consignor is hers, so I imagine the overhead is fairly low.

There was also a little bitchfight between another group renting the hall and one of the volunteers for the sale (no, not me!) where the guy from the other group made it clear to the volunteer that he was damn tired of us women (!) encroaching upon his sacred space with their clothes n’ stuff and that, even though the volunteer has a bad back, we were not to put our heavy boxes of ugly clothes on his empty tables. Jackass.

By the time I left, some people had left their stuff to sell. One item was a Harry Potter something or other. The lady running the sale informed us that “If you see Harry Potter ANYTHING, it goes straight in the garbage.” By this point, I’d had about enough and was (not so) patiently waiting for Gene to arrive to pick me up. She gets into this big conversation about how evil Harry Potter is and he’s satanic and all the spells he casts are really Satanic and some lady in her church showed her a movie of a Real Satanic Ritual. Ooh la la.

So there you have it. Once again, I got Snaked by the, well, you know whos…



Yanno…

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I would like The Office a lot more (and I already love it), if it wasn’t for Michael Scott. I know, I know, I’m a geek and Steve Carrell is the best thing on the show, but whenever he shows his clueless face onscreen, I just cringe. Apparently, The Office is now on reruns on TBS (WTF?). It’s a good episode but I just had to mute the screen because I can only handle Michael Scott for about 20 seconds at a time. Maybe it was the years I spent in HR, but something about him just makes me visualize the huge legal bills. I do not understand why he has a job.

Come to think of it, I’d like my own office a lot more if it had more cute Jim Halpert types (eye candy!) and fewer asswipes. (For example, our douchebag of an IT director was repeatedly reminded he needed to fix something on my computer or I would NOT be able to do my job. I finally had to drag him by the nose to my desk. Ugh.)

(Sorry for the work tales – I have two flavors at this point: Mahjobiscrappis or Yea, Clomid).


And in the end,

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(Emmy spoilers ahoy)

the deserving won the big awards. Yippee! I just love 30 Rock (and the Sopranos – seems weird that it’s all over, also, James Gandolfini and Edie Falco wuz robbed).

And on a final note, please let Hollywood know: formal hair = updo. It just does. It always has. It always will. If you want to look like a sweaty hedgehog who had bed head even before walking through that windtunnel, fine. Wear it down. Oy.

‘Night.


It’s Sunday

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and as per usual,

PUHLEASE don’t make me go to work tomorrow!

Gene is going out of town for a few days and by the time he gets back, I’ll be in the middle of Payroll Hell. Wahh.

We had dinner last night with another couple. We went to a tapas restaurant near our house and had a great time. We didn’t get home until nearly 10, which is pretty much our bedtime (hey, the alarm goes off at 5 during the week!), although in honor of the weekend we stayed up, I think, an entire extra hour. How times have changed.

You may notice that I’m not posting about a certain Plan B project. You’re Welcome! (Actually, I found a very interesting message board with other like minded women who are going through the same thing, so I bore them instead of boring, for instance, my brother, my mother and my friends).



Agggh

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First, I apologize for keeping my last post up for so long. It’s been a long week, even if I did only work 4 days (viva Labor Day!).

Anyway! It’s been a good weekend. We went to the gym this morning and then to the mall to go to a knife skills class at the cooking gear store. It was very informational. I don’t do a lot of cutting but hopefully I learned enough to be able to help the next time we have to chop anything. As part of the class, we purchased two new knives to replace two of our Henkel knives that were past it or in disrepair. We used all of the stuff we chopped to make bruschetta (tomatoes, garlic, herbs, etc). We got to eat it at the end of class – mmmm. I had been feeling kind of icky all during class but the snack perked me right up. And then we stopped to get me a late lunch (also mmmm).

Wednesday was the last day of Prednisone. I need someone to remind me to stop thinking prednisone is ever a good idea. I ate like a mad woman all week, food and water did not taste right (tell me please how water can taste wrong??). My eczema looks so much better but I know that soon enough it’ll be back. Gene has very helpfully suggested seeing a specialist but do you know what I need right now? If you guessed fewer copays, you’re right.

(Hooray for Flexible Spending Accounts – we’re down to less than $300 in ours for 2007 and I think I have receipts for nearly that much, plus Gene and I go to see a doctor each this week PLUS I see Dr. P sooner or later this month for the Glorious Discussion Regarding the Taking of Clomid).

(Dammit, I was sure I could get through a post without mentioning the C-word).



Happy Labor Day!

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I love, love, LOVE any excuse to not have to go to work. I love days off work!

Right now I’m taking prednisone (for my dead-sexy eczema) and metformin (originally for the prediabetes, but now more for the hopeful fertility upside, but hey, if it helps me lose weight too, who is going to complain?). I sure hope the prednisone works soon because those side effects are just…err…annoying. Racing heartbeat, out of control appetite, etc. And by “etc” I mean obsessing over everything I can think of. Today I have Googled many things that I can’t even recall right now and considered making a trip to Target to buy a giant plastic bin. (For some reason, when I obsess, I obsess about organization and when I obsess about organization, plastic bins are very important!).

Something weird happened last night – Gene was on the phone with his brother and started to tell him about our current medical adventure and I basically gave him the “don’t talk about it” sign (shaking head, waving hand). Now, why did I do that? I have talked about this with D at work, New Boss, NB’s toady, the new girl, Mom, Macauley/Bill. Why wasn’t I comfortable sharing this with the other side (in-law side) of my family? If Gene’s mom was still alive I may have told her. Honestly, I don’t feel close to my in-laws. I love them and my nephews are adorable, but BIL and his wife are such grownups that I don’t how to start the conversation. And frankly, what if they don’t care? Maybe it would have been wiser to not tell ANYONE.

I think what I will do is wait (Ugh, WAIT?) for my f/u appointment (hee hee, “f/u!”) on the 24th and if I really do get put on Clomid maybe I’ll tell Gene it is OK to tell BIL/SIL if it comes up. So much of this is a waiting game anyway – what’s another 3 weeks?

(UGH).

Oh well! Time to clean up the kitchen. Gene made a delicious dinner (flounder and corn on the cob), used the extras for lunch tomorrow and has already prepped dinner tomorrow, so the least I can do is tidy the kitchen a little and move some laundry and take out the trash. Might as well harness that Prednisone energy for good and not evil for once.