Okay, so earlier this season (Wouldn't it be fun if we had blogging seasons? Like with fashion? But I mean autumn. And, if you didn't know, I live with someone who can't tolerate the term Fall.) I did the "hey, I think something's on fire" post then didn't post for a few days. Oops. Sorry. Then The Lovely Reese tactfully pointed out that I just did a "hey, I feel miserable and my only friend is codeine" post... and didn't post for a few days.
Oops. Sorry. I promise that I really am 39, I don't dress completely in black, and all of my Smiths albums are packed away. Really. It was just a Gallbladder Moment.
In my defense, I did update my Twitter the very next day, but I know the Twitter portion of this layout is small and dark and so unobtrusive that you have to wonder why it's even there... I think it must be my little corner of sheepishness. Like, "I don't want to make a big deal out of it, but we joined Sam's Club this weekend. Mike made me do it. He signed his soul over to the Evil Wal-Mart Empire and dragged me in with him, like a bad mortgage, and would you believe that the ONE THING we ever need from Wal-Mart isn't sold at Sam's Club? Also, they only sell large Milkbones. I get it, it's a warehouse club, things are big. Okay, but that means the boxes are big, yes? Not the units of product. It's not like they sell individual beans the size of your thumb, or ballpoint pens you need two fists to pick up. Why are there no small Milkbones? WAL-MART HATES PUPPIES."
See, I can't put that kind of information in a regular post, because I don't want people to know we belong to Sam's Club. Except, Twitter only lets you have 140 characters, so I ended up having to put it here anyway.
Please turn away from my shame.
So, I am feeling better, thank you, but at what cost? ($40/year, until they build a CostCo near us.)
In addition to a (probably very overdue) gallbladder flareup, the doctor reckons my fatigue was/is caused by weather changes that are making everyone tired. You should've seen my third period class today. Usually third periods are always Goldilocks-perfect - not too sleepy, not too hungry, not too overstimulated. Today, half the class - and this was Honors - was just slumped over. "Yes, Miss. Okay, Miss. Thanks, Misszzzz."
The doctor prescribed some anti-nausea medicine, but it's a sedative so... ahem. Thanks, doc. I'm not taking it, what with needing to be able to drive a car and use all of my scowling muscles (in lieu of teaching). But, I'm getting better. Lots of water. Lots of reading. And a work order for an abdominal ultrasound tucked into the glove compartment if I "feel like it." You have to love a laid-back internist.
And I do love this doctor. Sure, you have to make your co-payment in cash, but at least that's straightforward. (Unlike Sam's Club, who will let you pay with Discover, MasterCard, cash, check, debit, whatever the Sam's credit card is... anything but Visa.) I even got to go back to his office again today because Mike has had a "sinus thingie" since Thanksgiving. He also thinks a mole on his face has changed. So, Mike's now on antibiotics and will, hopefully, be seeing a dermatologist next week.
Mike also got some good news today in the form of another long-term subbing position at his favourite school. The gig he's had since the start of the year ends with Winter Break, when the teacher comes back, and his new position starts right when break ends. Also, it's a vacancy that is currently held by another long-term sub.
This is meaningful. See, there are three pay rates for subs here: Regular, Long Term (subbing for another teacher for an extended period), and Vacancy (you are the teacher). LT pays 10% more than Regular, and Vacancy pays 10% more than LT, plus you get to "own" the classroom. That's right: you get to decorate the bulletin board. Maybe Mike can give me some pointers; is three years too long to go without changing a board?
To conclude this health report, the hamsters are all fine. Arthur and I engaged in a deluxe nuddling session last night, and he's still plump (if raggedy) at 2-years-plus. Christmas photos soon.
I have a great title for my next post. Unless I don't write it. In which case, apologies to the future from the past. Said post involves a new (to me) buffet experience and a certain winsome British pop star. I should be like (name any blog with more than six readers) and offer a contest to guess the buffet and the musician... but what would the prize be? Hmm. Hmmm. Prize. Hm.
Yeah, this is too hard. Instead, I need to see how many "You turned me into just another Wal-Mart dollar" grief points I can convert towards getting Mike to find the foot cream and slough the dead skin off my heels. Sexy!
I only let the towels stay for the day....
Posted by: Dad | 01 January 2009 at 08:43 PM