Consideration

I'm thinking of moving my blog, closing this one down or at least marking it as 'done'...something.

What brought this on? I received news today that V.--our most elderly staff member up until a few months ago when she retired (at 96) due to ill health--is doing something similar to what my mom did last month. She has stopped taking her meds, refuses more medical testing, and just wants to be done.

With this news, and the events surrounding my mom's death, along with ill-health of good friends and other family, changes in Beast's job, Sparky's Adventures in Adolescence and other assorted worries, I am in a bit of a tailspin. All I want to do is sleep, do crosswords, play games online, and watch TV. Reading is a challenge--first time for that--and writing is both mentally and physically difficult. It comes as a bit of a surprise to me that my brain can cramp with the weight of stress.

I think I've reached saturation. I need an extended break from...well, everything. And since I can't actually take a break of that sort in my day-to-day life, I've gotta let something go, and hold out for something new and fun around the corner when I no longer feel like I'm on the verge of falling into the abyss pell-mell. It's even possible that any new blog I start might be a little more transparent. Then again, it may not. We'll see.

Doctors who need to be shot

So, a good friend posted this last week. I had known she wasn't handling the meds well, but didn't realize the full extent of her problems.

Then I saw her Saturday and found her to be quite ill. Not sick. Sick is different from ill. Sick is the flu. Ill is...this sort of thing.

I offered to kneecap the doctor several times. She demurred, for now, because her focus is on getting healthy again. And she's not into the whole physical violence thing. She's also stubborn as hell and not real excited about medical "science" right now, so seeing another doctor was far down her list of Things To Do soon.

Fortunately, sometime ago I 'friended' her husband on Facebook. Yesterday morning I saw this update:

Today I took [artcat] to the hospital for some test[ing]. She will be there for two or three days. Please keep her in your prayers. Tue at 9:50pm

Artcat is not a hospital kind of person. I was VERY concerned. This update came through just as I went to bed last night:

[T]est and more test.....things are improving. [artcat] is in room [#]B at [hospital]. In May she had a blood test that registered her hemoglobin at 13.4. Normal is between 12.5 and 18. When the blood count gets as low as 8.0 it is transfusion time. Tuesday's test registered 4.3. Things look like they are improving with the first transfusion and they are still trying to find the reason for the blood loss. They have one more test in the morning to rule out internal bleed. Wed [at ~10:00pm]

From another source, I found out that one of the things they are checking is how well her bone marrow is doing.

And I've just realized that I've never gone over my sister Ellen's illness when I was a toddler.... Suffice to say that whenever I hear the words "bone marrow" I freak the fuck out.

I really really want to kill this doctor of artcat's. All I can hope for is that those in the hospital are REAL doctors who are able to put her back together again.

Meander

I wonder why I've never really aspired to happiness...or, frankly, much of anything else. Is that why I'm (usually) not unhappy? My goals are small: get through today without making tomorrow any worse than it has to be without my assistance. I don't have--never have had--serious long-term goals. I sense that this is why I have what are essentially panic attacks every time I have major projects to manage: moving, major trips, work processes, etc.

Then again, I'm feeling extra-morose tonight, and cranky. Sucking it up, being the grown-up, doing my duty: it's not fun. It's incredibly important to do that, however, because I know that where I'd end up if I didn't "do the right thing" is an ugly place that I don't want to visit. Or live, God forbid.

Whatever. I don't have the energy or the interest in really delving into my psyche tonight. I have some tough days ahead this week. There is no way around them, so I might as well face them whatever courage I can muster up. Because that's what we Scots do.

If only my fucking eyes weren't all screwed up AGAIN now.

Medical checkin

We took FIL out to dinner last night in honor of MIL's 72nd birthday. We had a good time, he got a little snockered on JB-BL, but a good time was had by all (except Sparky who was so bored his head hit the table for a nap at one point). Upon departure, FIL bumped up against a fixture and that was enough to open up the skin on his arm and he started to bleed like crazy. His skin on his arms is the thickness of a Kleenex. Sigh. Fortunately, this isn't painful--it's just like if anyone else bumped into something lightly--but it's embarrassing and messy. We had to go back inside and ask for multiple napkins and paper towels for him.

Meanwhile, Mom is in the hospital. She has had a bedsore for several months and it needs to be surgically debrided (?) or something. Anyway, it's very painful and her leg is still mending* so she's getting morphine constantly, and she isn't eating very well (and yesterday, due to crap hospital care, her blood sugar hit 39--they had forgotten she's diabetic and hadn't IV'd her or fed her all day)...and my sister is having to leave town for a week, and my brother (normally the geographically closest) is in Denmark (or Sweden?) for a couple of weeks...so that leaves me as the backup in case something happens and one of us kids needs to be there. My sister's husband is there, of course, but he's a PiTA, and I don't trust him very far.

Gah.

Old
Age
SUX!

_________
*I never mentioned here, I guess, that she slid out of her wheelchair in the nursing home van last month when it stopped suddenly. When she landed, her knee-replacement torqued around funny and broke off the end of her femur. Yeah. Fun. We've contacted a lawyer, primarily because we're pretty sure they didn't attached the straps right. We don't want money, just a clear procedure on how to not injure other patients! And she's 87 and frail so healing takes bloody-forever.

Swine Pooh

OMGROFL.

Best commentary on the current hysteria.

Not-bullets

1. Hey, it's poetry month! Hence the poems that have posted the past two days (oh, how I love post-dating!).



2. My Bloglines front page says I have "63 updated feeds" which include 367 unread posts. I also have 172 saved posts. I think this means I am officially buried.



3. I am caught up in tweets and Fb, though. Short Attention Span rules the day!



4. I am not loving Fb's 'update'. Just discovered that you can't do "less of/more of" individuals. People are either in your news feed, or not. That explains why I get RSS'd updates in Bloglines for Stephanie, Kyle, Kevin, et al., but never see 'em on Facebook; in the old incarnation they were "less of" but now they are invisible. Guess I'll create a 'group' of them so I can find them periodically. Stupid. How is this an upgrade, Fb??



5. Today I am meeting someone with whom I may be spending a great deal of time in the future, someone who may strongly influence my external happiness meter. Hope that goes well.



6. This weekend is crazy busy: local mission trip on Saturday (more on that, perhaps, later). On Sunday I'm playing in the bell choir at church which will be followed immediately by an Easter Egg hunt for the little kids. The youth group is going to hide the eggs, so as soon as worship is over, I have to go into supervision mode. Whee.



7. My mom's health is stable. That's all. I have not bought plane tickets. Not...quite...yet.



8. Found a shirt this morning in my closet I had forgotten about. It was with the summer shirts, but it's a long-sleeved T. Why, yes: I am wearing it today, as a matter of fact!



9. I'm nearly caught up in cataloging new materials at work, but suddenly feel absolutely swamped in projects. Graphic Novels, biogs, gifted videos and manga, calling STOOPUD publishers to cancel subscriptions (Dun&Bradsteet, you SUCK!) original cataloging, typos, fairy tales...the floodgates have opened.



10. Our system database manager at work needs to be punched in the face. This has nothing to do with anything else in this post. He just does. On principle.



11. Sparky has reverted to 100% teenager. Glad he's normal. Wish he'd pull his head out a little more often though.



12. The sun is out. This is a good thing, yo.

Quite quiet

We're watching Dirty Jobs. Mike is reaming out the sewer in Rifle, CO. This is near where my mom and sister live. Another town nearby is Silt. Imagine living in those towns! Yuck.

I'm as caught up on blogs, Fb and Twitter as I wish to be tonight and will soon be going upstairs for a bath. And then bed, early, so I can get up early and face Bible Study at 6:30 tomorrow. Yes. That's a.m.

Sparky is on his laptop watching (and, with earbuds, listening to) videos, having worked a bit on his Spring Break homework. His ACEN pass arrived in the mail today so he's pretty stoked, and that reminded me that he "needs" a fishnet/mesh shirt for his costume for that. [I think that's the hairstyle he's going for on a regular basis, except with his natural auburn hair color, and for ACEN, pinky-red falls/inserts. My kid = weird.]

Beast is downloading TurboTax. It sounds like the CD-ROM is sucking and grinding data right into the hardware of his laptop. Then it's quiet for a bit. Then it starts grinding away again. Weird.

My mom is stable. I didn't mention last week that our oldest employee at work (she's 96, I think) fell at home and hit her head. Sparky and I stopped by to see her at the hospital today. She's in remarkable shape, really, but not really herself again. Apparently she is MUCH improved since Friday, however.

All I did at work today was email, unload my desk and triage everything piled on it, download orders/input records/place holds, and cover two public desks for an hour each. It was terrifically busy. If anyone thinks the economy isn't affecting people, come on in the library. It's constant now. That's good, right?

The boys are going to Ohio for a couple of days later this week for some paperwork and stuff regarding FIL's belongings there. It'll be me and the guinea pigs. That will be quiet.

I think that's all the news that's fit to print, or worth blogging, or whatever the new cliché is.

And with that, and following close at Sparky's heels, I'm headed up to the sleeping storey where I will take a long, hot bath and go to bed. Yawn.

Gah

My sister called the other night around 9. She was in the waiting room at the hospital nearest their house, waiting (duh) for Mom to be transported from another hospital. Apparently, the nursing home van was taking her to the podiatist when the driver stopped short and the straps holding Mom in her wheelchair failed and she fell out. The upshot is that her right femur is broken just above her knee.

C'mon, God. Enough. Please?

Symptom of the problem

Beast is out of town this week. That's not a big deal for me. Not really.

Between dialysis and diabetes--among other medical issues--his dad has continuing testing and evaluating going on, and one of my charges yesterday was to deliver some stuff to the hospital lab for them to work on. As far as I was concerned, I was going to the facility where he lives, picking the stuff up from the floor nurse while he was at dialysis, taking it to the lab, and leaving. Beast thought he had everything set up.

The first hurdle went up at the front 'reception' desk of the hospital where the volunteers demanded the name of the patient and then couldn't find him in the computer. Well, he's not a patient, so duh. I went on to the outpatient area and they couldn't find any record of this test. Turns out, we were supposed to pre-register the drop off. WTF?

So, I called Beast, who called his dad for the insurance info needed to register him, Beast called the registration desk, and that situation was resolved.

I went back in the lab and the tech informed me that she couldn't complete the orders from the doctor unless FIL was there because she needed a blood draw and his height/weight.

Huh? We were told--by this lab, where Beast picked up the equipment--that all we had to do was return the equipment and results. Nothing was mentioned about brining in FIL, nothing about a blood draw, nothing about pre-registering.

Of course, I couldn't go get FIL just then because he was still hooked up to the dialysis stuff for another 45 minutes or so half an hour away . Plus we would need to cancel his ride back to his apartment. Also, I needed to pick Sparky up from school at the same time a half an hour the other direction and get him home long enough to change clothes and eat before his band concert last night.

I was pissed, needless to say. The lab tech I was working with was not the one Beast had talked to--though she came out to 'apologize' (consisting of "I'm not sure who put my business card in the bag, because I wouldn't have said that"--some apology!). The one I worked with called the nephrologist several times to clarify what was going on, but he didn't return calls for the hour I was there. I told them several times that I would be happy to go get FIL after dialysis and bring him in, but I was annoyed (ahem) that we hadn't been told about this, and it was completely balling up the rest of my schedule.

Finally, in a stroke of genius, Beast called me and said, "Wait a second: if they need a blood draw to compare the results with...it won't work for you to bring him this afternoon. He's had dialysis. His blood won't resemble ANYthing from yesterday because it's been CLEANED! Duh."

Now. Explain to me why we, laypersons who don't 'do' medicine for a living, figured this out when the lab staff, who do 'do' this for a living, did NOT.

Really? No...REALLY??

The upshot--we'll do it all over again this coming weekend, and bring FIL into the hospital for the blood draw before he goes to dialysis next Monday.

So, 90 minutes after I walked in the building for a 10-minute (AT MOST) errand, I finally left with nothing to show for it except high blood pressure and 30 minutes of burned up cell phone usage. Beast probably burned through another 20 minutes on top of that.

The kicker? When Beast was registering FIL over the phone, the registrar basically said, "I don't see anything on this order from the doctor for a blood draw." He didn't tell me that until last night, fearing I might go apeshit on the tech.

I hope to hell I never get taken to this hospital as a patient. Every time we've dealt with them (ER for Beast, admission for FIL a couple of years ago, etc.) they have fucked up something. I know that mistakes happen, but that kind of track record in medical services is not something that makes me real confident.

I'm gonna be glad to get to work today where the insanity is, at least, not life-threatening.

Rolling with the punches

The Plan:

- Get up a little later than usual
- Get Sparky on his way to school
- Check email/twitter/Fb/Bloglines after a long dry-spell last night where we had no access to the 'net
- Help Beast finish preparing for his week-long trip (which combines family stuff and work stuff and is pretty complicated)
- Wave goodbye to Beast
- Go to the grocery store
- Other projects and errands
- Meet extended family members for dinner

The Actuality, as it stands now:

- Get up later than I planned
- Get Sparky on his way to school
- Start checking the 'net stuff
- Beast finished packing after a night spent in the recliner (oops--never came to bed!)
- Phone call from FIL's place saying his blood sugar crashed and they called 911
- Now in the midst of multiple calls to all and sundry to see what impact this has on FIL's schedule (dialysis, etc.), and to make sure 911 has things under control
- ....[see post title]

Pride

In our church, there are a few older couples. Of course, eh? One in particular has been in the forefront of our minds lately. The wife--I'll call her Dite--is a fireplug and a dynamo, always on the move (though considerably slower than before) and involved in lots of things, from helping out at the schools to working with the homeless to volunteering at the hospital. It was in the latter capacity that she was working a couple of weeks ago, in the gift shop, when she suddenly fainted. She's NOT a fainter, by the way. On the way down, she apparently hit her head on the counter and ended up in ICU for a couple of nights. She's being really coy about the medical stuff (typical for someone in her 80s) so no one is completely sure what the full story is, but she's been having a great deal of trouble with dizziness since then.

Another friend at church contacted us earlier this week. She had been at Dite and Bert's house and noticed that they have no stair rail on one side of the staircase in the house. She asked if Beast and a few others would get together and go take care of that. They live in a split level, so there are actually two staircases next to each other and it's the railing between them that's missing. So, if Dite lost her balance and tipped that direction, she'd actually fall down two flights.

Pretty basic fix, though. Except Bert is extraordinarily prideful. This couple has not had no garage door for at least 15 years--just plastic taped over the opening--in spite of several (and I mean dozens) of offers to fix it or help him fix it. They park outside. Dite herself has been unwilling to host gatherings in her home, and I'm beginning to guess that perhaps there are other repairs that need doing and she's embarrassed about them. It's not that Bert sits around--he's as active as she is in various things, but he's not capable physically anymore and refuses to accept help.

So three big boys, Beast included, appeared on his doorstep last night and assessed the stair rail situation. This is a life-safety issue, not an embarrassment thing, and they are G O I N G to F I X this.

I have strongly suggested Beast never to behave this way. I included a couple of other men of our church in that strong suggestion, for all the good it will do.

And the starkest contrast? They are approximately the same age as my mom, who has spun into yet another dramatic health moment.

Queen of Drama

Sometimes, even when I know better, I want to S H A K E certain members of my family and then ask them to grow the fuck up.

But doing that to someone in their 80s is frowned upon.

So instead I'm having a lengthy chat with The Big Guy about His timing and plan for this individual's future on earth. If I could S H A K E God, I'd do that.

Checking in

Mood: Blergh
Hair: Cleanish
Eyes: Tired
Listening to: The Broncos/Jets game

It's snowing. All kinds of weather warnings today. But, really, not all that awful. Not enough for a snow day tomorrow for Sparky (and the rest of the district), unfortunately.

It is sort of unfortunate since he spent yesterday feeling totally lousy--throwing up and sleeping with the "just in case" bowl a foot or less from his face. Today he seems almost normal, except for the coughing. Meanwhile, both Beast and I are still feeling the lingering effects of this bug: we are drop-dead tired.

The Packers lost (and they did deserve to lose, despite a kick-ass 3rd quarter), the Browns lost, and the Broncos are currently ahead of Brett Far ..., er, the Jets, but I'm not holding my breath.

The highlight of today, it seems, will be The Amazing Race tonight, directly after which I think I'm going to bed. I really have to be at least functional enough tomorrow to go to the grocery store and run a couple of other errands, and call the supplier from whom we order our greens for youth group. They messed up our order in a big way, which we didn't realize until we started delivering things yesterday. Along with that, one person called to ask why she got a cross instead of the tree she ordered. ...Uh, cuz you ordered a cross not a tree--wow, duh, fill out forms much?

So, no one here is in a very good mood, and I can't actually wait for the end of winter in spite of the fact that it just started today got sll intents. And purposes.

---

Urban Word:

goat rope: A situation or activity that has become completely fucked up, or, an exercise in futility. The phrase comes from the image of a goat, tied down with a rope, humping the rope but not getting anywhere. Similar to goat fuck.

The health in this household is currently nothing but goat rope.

I missed someone

When I did my list of medical issues yesterday, I left off my brother-in-law Dean. We got a (surprisingly legible) letter from him...uh...Thursday, I think. Remember, last winter (Jan-Mar), he was having all kinds of problems? (if not, and if you care, you can enter his name in the search box in the upper left of this page)

Turns out he's got an official diagnosis of polycythemia vera. There is a great deal of weirdness in that diagnosis, since my sister--his wife--nearly died of aplastic anemia.

In any case, it's not curable. As he says, "Oh well; such is life." He'll probably lose more of his extremities.

Seriously? I think this is why I'm not a doctor. There are just too many things that can go wrong in our bodies. I'm beginning to be quite amazed when things are actually functional; for instance, my tear ducts are working really well.

[My mom...who knows. We are in limbo, or more technically, purgatory. Waiting. And this is part of why I don't believe in (traditional) Hell.]

It's never good when Marie cries

If you are keeping score at home:

• 1 family member in assisted living
• 1 family member recovering from brain surgery in June and getting regular 'tune-ups' as the docs adjust the electrodes they implanted
• 1 family member recovering from last Tuesday's knee surgery; still in the hospital, but everything is moving along fine
• UPDATE! 1 family member in hospital since last night because she's too sick for the nursing home where she lives

The last two are in rooms next door to one another. Mom is vaguely aware that she's in the hospital--she asked my sister (the knee surgery patient) "What did I do?" this morning--but not eating, drinking, or even opening her eyes. Marie did get some food into her this morning by spoon-feeding her.

So, Marie is supposed to go home today; she's going to try for another night so she's there with Mom. Elizabeth, Marie's oldest daughter, is scheduled to arrive tonight to help out for a week or so. Sparky and I will be there 11/7. At this point, I'm not sure if Mom will still be around.

Or not. We've had so many false alarms with Mom that I just never know. This is the worst, though. Her doctor is pretty sure this is it. As in "it."

So, generally...see title.

(blank)

Mood: The usual
Hair: Funky pony
Eyes: Fine
Listening to: Beast typing on the other laptop, and MNF

That's me: blank. I sat here for two minutes staring at the screen trying to come up with a title for this post.

I woke up this morning about 3:30 with a scratchy throat. Time for the autumn cold, I guess. Whee. Never did get back to sleep all the way.

The best I can do for content is to say that it's Spirit Week (i.e. Homecoming) for Sparky. We drove 40 minutes in rush hour traffic looking for colored, washable hairspray for Wednesday. Yep. I spent about as much on gas driving to the nearest pop-up costume store as I did for the two cans of silver-colored dust.

FIL is more-or-less situated in his apartment, and seems to be loving it so far.

Beast has been wandering around for half an hour saying he's lost his mind. It's just never good when the reliable person is doing that!

Summation: I'm tired. Too tired to get excited about some of the Stupid People Tricks on display today (excluding family, although Sparky's on kind of a roll tonight).

---

WordSpy Word:

stay-at-work mom: n. A mother who returns to work soon after giving birth. Also: stay-at-work mother.

I am proud to say that, with the exception of about 18 months, I have always been a stay-at-work mom, following in my own mother's footsteps--though, granted, she was not able to go back to work till I was four, in 1967. Times change.

Belated

Mood: Awake (-ish)
Hair: Yanked back in a braid
Eyes: So far, so good
Listening to: Beast, in the fridge, making noise...dropping things, etc.

I meant to post last night, but my brain was just not up to cruising through the highs and lows of the day. The short version:

The place where Beast's dad was going to be moving--next Friday--pulled the plug on his acceptance. Apparently he's too sick, or not sick enough, for them to manage. It makes no sense; dialysis is not that uncommon among the elderly and he'd be doing it at a center, not at home...whatever. It's just weird that an elder-care facility would refuse someone for needing elder care--and then tell us that the nearest place who can accommodate us is an hour a way.

Beast spent the early afternoon calling back some places that were on the B team, and found a spot for FIL at a place that's further away (by 10 minutes, not an hour!), has medical staff on site more often, and has no issues with dialysis, and which has space available for him to move in next Friday. The timing is still the same, but the location and amenities are different. Thank goodness I hadn't bought anything yet for FIL's windows or kitchen cupboards!

Beast's blood pressure may never return to normal however, and the original location has shot themselves in the foot bigtime over this. So much for me volunteering there, or feeling generally charitable when they do something that makes the news. They should go hang for all I care now.

Last night was pretty quiet. We watched the debate...and it was, for the first time in a long time, an actual debate, not a one-sided duck-and-dive. I think they were actually thinking for themselves. Both of them. Shocking.

And here's a bit from Buddy, whom I was holding while Sparky cleaned his cage:

y5t hfrtl;v.tt;;;;;;;;;;;c l.8ewlceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, e88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888 888888888
8888888888888888888888888 888888888r
[[[[[[[;[;p;pppppppppppppu ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,hhhy gm

---

Urban Word:

SEP: Someone Else's Problem

It is rare for me to think this way, but I'm learning to let go of what I can't control and allow it to be SEP.

me me me

Mood: Good
Hair: I love barrettes! I also wonder just exactly how I'm not bald considering the amount of hair I dusted and vacuumed up in the bathroom today!
Eyes: Going south again
Listening to: A/C. Yes. It's THAT WARM!

I made jambalaya tonight. Technically, I made it in July, but I cooked it tonight for Sparky and me. And for dessert, we had yummy home-cooked cinnamon rolls.

I found something out about just how out of shape I am: while shelving yesterday (i.e., crawling around and bending and twisting) I managed to annoy my inner thigh muscles so much that I can't walk today. I literally have had to back down the stairs this evening because walking forward hurts that much! My old lady walk is on the way to perfection! Of course, today is laundry day...the washer & dryer are in the basement. The bedrooms are on the second floor. LOTS of stairs in between.

I have no idea what I'm doing tomorrow with the youth group after highway cleanup. I also can't find the file with contact info & permission slips that we collected two weeks ago. Organization is somehow only my strong suit at work!

It dawned on me today that I have pretty much thrown in the towel on updating family medical info. I need a chart.

Sparky picked up Brisingr today, his copy which he ordered in July or something from the local bookstore. It was released at midnight today. I'm reading a kids book too, among other things I'm reading. In fact, I think I'm going to go read now. That doesn't hurt my legs!

---

Urban Word:

Destinesia: When you get to where you were intending to go, you forget why you were going there in the first place. Not to be confused with being stoned, destinesia often occurs during working hours, and is the cause of much frustration.
Today was definitely Destinesia Day for me: I was so focused on the getting somewhere that once I arrived, if I didn't have a list of what I came for, I might as well not have bothered.

What an awful day!

Work today was pretty much useless. Lots of rain brought out lots of people needing all sorts of stuff at the library. Our Tr!b carrier triple bagged the paper...then slid it across concrete and shredded all three bags, which meant the paper was 75% soaked upon retrieval. (Investors Business Daily was a complete loss: totally soggy and melting into itself.) The computers were moving so slowly by 10 that we were essentially working in reverse, and the staff functions were slower than the public YouTube and MySpace viewing. Residents of a group home arrived in the middle of that mess. I like these guys because they are almost always 100% up-front about what they need, but they are needy...and we don't have any books on dentistry. Or teeth. The printers weren't printing right, either. And I didn't feel good for the last half of the day: I was up in the middle of the night last night being friendly with porcelain, but felt OK this morning. By early afternoon, I was ready to head home, except I couldn't because we were short-staffed and barely hanging on. Oh, and people were registering to vote in droves today for some reason--I'm not complaining about this, really, just the timing.

Highlight of the day: wrangling three 13-year-olds out of the building at closing, one of the staff said something about knowing one of them along with his parents. Another kid pipes up, "You know my family? I doubt it. Go on, what's my last name!?" I burst into a guffaw--he was wearing a baseball shirt...with his last name printed on it. Goomba!!

I work tomorrow as well. Gaah.

Meanwhile, Beast has spent the day doing all the laundry and sorting through his parents' paperwork trying to formulate a way of organizing it. I just asked him if he feels as if he's crested the hill and can see the lay of the land, and he says he doesn't even know what the hill looks like. His back is, at least, a little better.

Sparky continues to plug through his stack of homework assigned for this weekend.

I think I've figured out (part of) my eye problem: computers. So this is about all I'm doing tonight online.

---

Urban Word:

poopular: Adj. Popular on the outside, poopy on the inside.

The more I see and read about Sarah Palin the more I think she personifies the Ultimate Poopular PTA Bitch. Sorry, no vote here; I never did like you ladies (term used intentionally--you have no idea how much I loathe that word).

Productive Day

Mood: Better'n last night!
Hair: Newly dyed, but looking purly-AWful
Eyes: ...grrr...
Listening to: Beast talking to his dad on the phone

Beast worked his 40-plus hours over the course of the rest of the week, so today was a free day today. So...

...he dropped me off at 9:20 for my aforementioned hair appointment
...he went to the bank and set up his dad's new account (part one) and I think did one other short errand
...we drove half an hour to the next biggest city to return his rental car and pick up our Honda
...we stopped at the nearest furniture store that sells LaZBoy and picked out a new recliner for FIL (it will not arrive until after he has moved in)
...we tried to eat at one place where Beast was called an "Asshole" by a woman driving a giant SUV and the line was 15 minutes long (ABORT!)
...we drove thru Wendy's where I got fries and Beast got a burger
...Beast dropped me at Starbucks back in the town where I work where I was meeting someone; meanwhile, he stopped at the bookstore next door to talk to someone who had left a message about running the sound/light board at church
...he went to talk to people at U-Haul
...I talked to a friend
...he picked me up
...we went to the grocery store and I went in and grabbed food for dinner while
...he stopped across the street at the post office to check our box
and then...we went home (arriving at 4 or so).

I had to run out and collect Sparky from school at 5, I made dinner (gasp! shock!), we all sorted laundry, Sparky cleaned up the dishes and brought up the recycling, Beast is paying bills, and I'm about to go take a bath and rest my eyes. I'm having a horrible time seeing the computer screen well enough to read, which is freaking me out a little.

Tomorrow I work. It will be MUCHO relaxing!

It's raining, and will be doing so for the forseeable future. There's another horrible hurricane in the Gulf. I don't want to drive to Houston with stuff again, so I hope people there evacuate sensibly.

Right. Going to bath and bed.

---

Urban Word:

hurrication: Evacuation from a major hurricane turned into a short holiday.

I hope all you Galvestonians are enjoying your hurrication and things aren't as bad as they sound after the storm passes.