Did ya ever throw out the last two inches of milk in the carton, even though it wasn’t sour yet, just because there was a brand-new, fresh, unopened carton just waiting to accompany your peanut butter and jelly sandwich?
Did ya ever put on a shirt for work, notice it had a stain on it, and just wear it anyway and hope nobody notices?
Did ya ever clean your house by shoving all of the clutter into a room that nobody’s supposed to go into, only to be asked to give a tour of your house?
Did ya ever wear flip flops knowing your feet look like victims of torture but go to the grocery store anyway?
Did ya ever catch yourself, halfway through a meal with friends, and realize you’ve been smacking your food really, really loud, and making grunting noises to boot?
Did ya ever get caught singing the wrong lyrics to a song, and give the excuse that you know they’re wrong but it’s funnier your way?
Did ya ever go to answer your cell phone and realize it’s someone else’s, using the same ring tone you used two years ago?
Yeah. Me too.
Yesterday was my cardiologist appointment for an echocardiogram. I was in and out in fifteen minutes and in that time I showed a stranger my boobs, and saw all four chambers of my heart, and watched my valves open and close, and saw my aorta, and saw my liver. I told the tech not to bother looking for my gallbladder because it went on vacation and all I got was this stinkin’ scar. He didn’t even crack a smile. Tough room. Though I prefer to think he was distracted by my magnificent breasts. Hey, the average age of the other folks sitting in the waiting room was 65. I’m betting mine was the nicest rack he’s seen all week.
When he was done the tech gave me one little tissue with which to wipe all the GOOP off of me. I raided his stash of paper towels – in the end, it took eight.
I have a follow-up appointment on the 18th to get the results. The pain in my chest has been less, thanks to Aleve, though every now and then it rises up to smite me. I got a total stab in the chest the other day while talking to my boss in his cubicle, and as I gasped and bent over double he said, “Hey now, no dying on company time!” I assured him I shall strive to be a good Corporate Citizen.
The doc says I might need surgery to fix the problem – they do it with a teeny laser and zap something the size of a single cell, and voila! All better. Still, the thought of them going at my heart with a laser gives me the shudders. Eef.
Latest Really Cool Find on Ancestry.com – my great-grandfather’s WWI registration card.
Looks like I’ll have to start my sabbatical on June 7th instead of May 31st. One of the guys in my group is going to be on his honeymoon over Memorial Day week and my boss wanted me to take that week of vacation (which is actually regular vacation time that I tacked onto the beginning of my sabbatical) in April instead. Bill is going to be in Chicago the week of April 26th so I’m going to take it then. I’ll either join him in Chicago and hang out while he’s in his training sessions, or just stay home and putter around the house. I guess it all depends on critter care, and airplane tickets, and whatnot.
I hope this weekend’s plans to include a motorcycle ride to our Tequila And Taco Destination. Or the Chuckbox for their world-famous burgers. Either will do. It’ll have to happen tomorrow because it’s supposed to rain again (?!?) on Sunday. We’ve gotten twice as much rain since January 1st than we had in ALL of 2009. Craziness. I love it, though. If it weren’t for, you know, our leaky roof and stuff.
Hope everyone has a lovely weekend!