We've got personality...personality....

Dear Nick,

You are too freaking adorable. I could watch you on the puppycam all day long if I didn't have an actual job to do.

But do me a favor, please? Stop chewing on your brother's head.

And also, if you could find a way to sleep without displaying your junk to the world, that would be lovely. Modesty is highly underrated.

Love,

Your Hooman Mom

*****

I finally got my application faux pas worked out and just spent the last hour filling out an online personality evaluation.

It's amazing how many times and how many different ways they can ask you if stealing is wrong. Or if you like people. Or if you can accept being told what to do with no recourse.

What I probably *should* say? Hello, I really would like this job. I'm a team player that never hesitates to pitch in whenever and wherever needed, I work quickly and enjoy repetitive tasks.

What I *want* to say? Yo, Holmes. Give me this damn job, preferably at what I'm already making and if possible, close to the building with the Starbucks in it. Oh, and I don't really like to work all that hard, so if you can keep it easy on the workload, m'kay?

Maybe being sick isn't a bad thing

And again, I am posting this from the vast expanses of my kitchen which is a mess of dirty dishes, uneaten Tater Tots and pill bottles. I ran a fever all night, and woke up at 4 AM with a sick Monkey who now has strep throat too. Seems like last February all over again, except instead of calling this movie "Groundhog Day" I'm going to call it "Strep Diagnosis and Never-Ending Copays." Kind of wordy but it might catch on at the box office.

I haven't posted much about the office in quite a while, mostly because they came up with the genius idea of our company joining this millenium and starting its own blog and Facebook page. Which then resulted in the powers-that-be coming up with an internet policy that says we're not allowed to blog during work hours or write anything company-related. Hmm. I guess I could push the envelope and see, but since work is really more of a hobby than an occupation I haven't really had much to write about. Well, let me restate that - I've had lots to write about, but reliving my daily torture really isn't good for the soul.

Layoffs started again yesterday. Luckily, they laid off two of our most impulsive and demented field employees who will probably arrive mid-afternoon on Thursday with pistols blazin' and taking swigs of Mad Dog as they rampage through the office. And by luckily, I mean that at least we would expect this behavior from them so we're kind of ready for it. Not to mention I'm on the executive level on the back side of the building, so I'll have time to run down the back stairs before they shoot my ass. Both of them actually liked me though, so I'd probably get a free pass. I hope.

More will be coming. And I know this is terrible, but I'm almost crossing my fingers that I will be chosen. I was on the short list last year and was saved. But we're out of work, we're not picking up any new work, and honestly they're not going to pay me just to sit there and look cute. I mean, they already do that but I actually have enough to do to look busy.

What would I do if I got laid off? I dunno. I have a resume in to a Fortune 100 company that is pending an interview and they are notoriously slow in hiring. I might pull Monkey out of The World's Most Expensive After-Care Program and try the stay-at-home gig for a while. I might find something part-time that is local so I don't spend my days commuting anymore. I might start writing again. I might go back to school and try something else for a change.

Just for fun, though, I've been thinking of some possible new career paths for myself.

1. Midget Stripper: Okay, so I have that whole height thing working against me. But there's a definite lack in this city of midget strippers. Did you know that in order to get one, you have to import them from D.C.? I see a definite market here.

2. Construction Cleaning Company: I've thought about this one for a while. Hire the hottest women I can find who might do a half-assed cleaning job and call it "Dirty Girls". What red-blooded American male construction company wouldn't hire them? EXACTLY. And would they care if they didn't do a good job? You can bet your Daisy Dukes they wouldn't.

3. Personal shopper: For myself. Hey, don't judge. I need stuff too.

4. Model for David Yurman: As long as it comes with free bling, I'll model wearing nothing but two bandaids and a tissue. Hope David doesn't mind a few stretch marks.

Any other suggestions? I'm all ears.

New year, more bitching. New and improved!

Well, hello there! Where the hell have you been?

You know I have to turn this around on you. Because another pathetic apology for not posting just isn't gonna happen.

I've missed you guys. And I'm out of flex spending money for therapy, so there you go.

*****

Just to give you an idea of how things have been for the last few months - it's pretty pathetic that the success of your day is measured by whether you're on the employee phone list or not. It's almost like a daily dose of Russian roulette to see if a new phone list is sent out and hey, am I on it or not?

I have to admit, there are some days when I'm disappointed that they don't hand me a box and tell me to get out. Living in limbo for the last year has really sucked.

A week ago, they let Brandon go and let me and EPOD know in no uncertain terms that we were on the bubble as well. I am probably safer than EPOD is, but not by much. That job I inherited - or rather, had shoved down my throat - back in August literally saved my ass. For now.

*****

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, things were kicking along. I turned 40 and celebrated with a trip to Florida for a long weekend that turned out to be possibly the rainiest five days in Florida's history. Have you ever ridden on a roller coaster in the pouring rain? It's kind of like a swiss shower at a spa. Unfortunately, sitting around in a wet poncho in the humidity makes you feel like you're in a Reynolds Oven Bag.

Two days after my birthday, I got an email from my brother Dave - remember the one who had the heart issues that kept him from coming for my dad's birthday in July? Well, Mr. Health Nut Vegetarian, Bike-Until-My-Testicles-Scream ended up having to have an angioplasty due to some blockages in two of his arteries. The doctors were baffled so they ran a barrage of tests and he found out what the problem is and his doctor strongly advised that his siblings get tested too, because it's genetic.

And, as the winner of the My Life is Crap This Year Lottery, I have it too. It's called elevated Lp(a), which is a lipoprotein in your blood that acts like plaque and causes clogs. Even if your LDL and HDL cholesterol numbers are good, or even great, we are still 65% more likely to have a heart attack or stroke than your average person.

Well, happy birthday to me.

What does this mean for me? Well, basically a whole lifestyle change. Low fat, high fiber, lots of exercise, and medication for the rest of my life. The good news is we caught it early before I got as bad as my brother - his level is quadruple what mine is. So I feel pretty good about my chances.

It's not a death sentence, it's a life change. Or at least that's what I remind myself as I'm choking down whatever concoction I've dreamed up in my efforts to make something that tastes good and is good for me.

*****

I could go on and on, but that's pretty much where I've been. Nothing like a good health scare and possible unemployment to derail you. But I'm still plugging along. Working on my inside and my outside. And making plans for the future.

If you're still around, get ready for some low-fat, high fiber goodness with a side of bitchiness.

Bubbling up

Today is a rainy, overcast day and I am home with a boy who is snotty and coughing but able to bust a move to his favorite song on the ESPN recaps. Not that I mind, because honestly a day off is just what the doctor ordered - a much-needed chance to actually sit down and collect myself from the craziness that has been the last few months.

First, thanks to everyone who emailed, called, sent Facebook messages. I am fine. Now.

I finally went to the doc about my chest pains (yet again) and after getting my ticker checked by a cardiologist it was determined that my heart is fine. My head, not so much. I had been going to an acupuncturist for a few months to see if it helped out my stress levels and honestly, it did help for a while but then I realized when she cut me back to every other week that I was back at square one again. It was time to get help.

So Dr. W put me on Celexa. So far, so good. Once I got past the first few weeks of feeling scatterbrained all the time I settled into what is probably close to the New Normal as I'm calling it. I still have stress but not nearly as bad - which honestly, I don't mind it as long as I'm not doubled over with pain or unable to function like I had been. Emotion is not a bad thing as long as it's not disabling me from living my life.

My dad - well, God bless him, he turned 87 on July 31st with a big birthday party. My brother Dave was unable to come from Seattle due to some heart issues that weren't resolved in time for him to safely fly, but the rest of us were there and it was a fantastic day. My siblings and I all gave speeches and we had lots of hugs and laughs and a few tears.

He is doing okay. It seems like the doctors put him on new medicines that work for a few weeks and then he is so sick from the side effects that it leaves him unable to function. Then he goes off the meds and is suddenly better again. The other weekend he asked me to read through the prospectus for a clinical trial that his doctor wanted him to participate in. Honestly, even at my age I don't think I would want to participate when there is zero guarantee that he wouldn't be in the placebo group...so I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea. He seemed relieved, and that's really all that matters to me. What good is quantity of life if the quality sucks ass? Yeah, not so much. Last week the doctor pulled yet another chemical rabbit out of his hat and started him on a new combination of medicines so it's yet another wait-and-see. His spirits are good though, and he hasn't lost his devilish sense of humor.

Work has been nuts. Three weeks ago I was assigned to a new project - well, let's just say that the old PA got pulled off because apparently she's too busy blowing one of the owners to actually do her job - and this project is a federal job for a facility that is for one of the three-letter agencies that I am not going to write out for fear of being Googled or whatever those creepy people do. Anyhow, she hadn't done jack for 3 months so guess who has been shoveling that shithole out? Yup, me. Good thing for the meds is all I have to say. So this is working for a different project manager and another team in addition to EPOD and Brandon. Egads.

Oh, and I joined a gym. Have been working out with a trainer and trying to whip my old ass into shape. I am really enjoying it, actually. You wouldn't believe how great it has been for stress management, although trying to keep up with a bunch of 20-somethings in one of the classes just about killed me the other day.

And lastly, I got some resolution in an estrangement with a friend that happened a few months ago. We're taking it slowly, little tiny baby steps. But what else can you do when someone texts you with "I miss my friend"? Especially when you miss them too. You pick up the phone, you say what you have to say, and you agree to try again.

Baby steps, baby steps. It seems as though I am learning to walk all over again, and trying desperately not to fall.

Here I is!

That's what Monkey Man used to say to us when he was playing hide and seek, at least.

I've been around. Most of my daily life has been filled lately with counting points, running, and of course my stupid job which seems to take up way more of my life than necessary.

As far as my job goes, exactly how do I go for weeks with literally NOTHING to do all day long except shuffle papers around on my desk in an elaborate ruse to appear busy while my coworkers are getting the ax, and then suddenly this week I am so busy that I forget to pee? How did this happen to me? It would be nice if the workload would kind of level out so that I could at least pee on a regular basis, but also so that I don't have to spend days trying to appear like I am so busy that I can't pee. If that makes any sense.

*****

As of January 5, I went back on Weight Watchers. Remember if you will, back three years ago I lost an ungodly amount of weight and managed to keep it off for about 2.5 years...well, so, I gained some back so I decided to get back on the wagon again.

I worked out like crazy. I stuck to my points religiously. And nothin'. Well, the first week I lost the usual 4 pounds, but after that I stalled out. One day, in desperation, I went into April's office to vent about how freaking hungry I was and she suggested checking out Livestrong.com and their food journaling section called "The Daily Plate". I did, was mildly interested, and put it on the back burner.

Then, after like 10 days of not losing jack and starving to death, I emailed both Maven and Mer to see what their opinions were since they are also veterans of Weight Watchers. The general consensus was - maybe I just wasn't getting enough food. I decided to take a few days and journal both in Weight Watchers and Livestrong just for giggles - it was a huge pain in the ass, but very interesting. They were right. It wasn't nearly enough food, and I guess my body had gone into "starvation mode" and I wasn't losing jackshit for weight.

So I switched over to Livestrong. Basically, all you do is journal all day, and they give you your calorie guidelines based on your height, weight, age, and activity levels. On the days I don't work out, I get less food. On the days that I do work out, I get a little bit more. And I love the activity level calculators - like who would've guessed that 18th century dancing counted? Or vigorous sex? I'm all about that.

Since I switched over, I've lost two pounds a week. I have been way happier with not only what I'm getting to eat (which is basically what I like, just smaller portions) but the quantities too. I don't feel deprived. It's awesome. I am now down 9.5 pounds since January 5th, and have been living a pretty normal existence.

The working out has been a bit of a challenge. After twinging my sciatica a few weeks ago, it took me a good week to get back up to speed. I realized too that working out every day does NOT work for me. I am so tired by the end of the day that doing it every day results in crappy, short workouts. Doing it every other day not only gives my muscles (and poor feet) time to recover from the previous workout, I get in a much more intense workout and I actually look forward to it.

Okay, that's a lie. I still hate to work out. But whatever.

*****

I found out today that two young women in our community have committed suicide in the past four days.

I didn't know either one of them, but one of my friends knew both of them. From what I hear, they were both beautiful, intelligent, loving women. Everyone is stunned.

I'm not sure what drives people to do that. It's something I've wondered a lot, especially after my nephew died seven years ago. What is possibly so bad that ending your life seems to be the only answer?

So, if someone you know seems troubled, or reaches out for help, I urge you to listen. Hug them. Call Hopeline for help. See the link on the right...it's something I believe in with all of my heart. If one person calls Hopeline, then that's one more light that will stay bright.

*****

I hate to end this on a downer, but would like to ask for some positive thoughts and prayers for my friend Cat Door. He goes in tomorrow for a biopsy on his prostate and an ultrasound as well. He's had chronic problems for years due to scar tissue from a car accident in his teens, but his PSA has been alarmingly going up and down for the past year and the doctor is getting a little anxious about it.

He's anxious too. And to see him freaked out, freaks me out. Although I'm not sure what is freaking him out more - the actual biopsy, or having an ultrasound wand shoved up his wazoo.

All I know is that he has to be okay. I won't accept any other answer.

In search of snow

Tuesday came and went, with two more people gone. One being my friend Melissa, who was secretly delighted since she's been struggling a lot lately balancing two kids under 3 years old and a husband that constantly travels, and the other one being Jon who worked on my team...if you can call it "working". He was pretty useless and arrogant too, so I was glad to see him go.

That afternoon, the president got us all together to talk about what had happened. The Cliff Notes version is that yes, they laid off a total of seven people. Yes, they are done...for now. No one can predict what the market will be like, so there are no guarantees. They are aggressively pursuing projects in the hopes of keeping everyone else employed. Hoo boy.

Once I had a chance to breathe on the way home, I started thinking about the seven people who got the ax. Two were part-timers who were "overhead" costs versus being reimbursable like most of us are. One was working out onsite at a project that was pretty much done and they had nowhere to send her. One was a superintendent that had quit three weeks ago, asked to come back and work things out, and then obviously was on the list to be cut. And the other three were project managers who were relatively new at the company, didn't have a lot of projects going on, and really didn't have any oomph in their resumes that made them a "must keep". The core group is still here, still kicking ass, and honestly once the meeting was over it was like a huge weight had been lifted off the office's collective shoulders.

*****

In the comments on my last post, Marcia Ann asked a question about LEED projects that I wanted to comment back on. In terms of difficulty of these projects, it kind of depends on what side of the table you're on. As a designer, it's difficult because you have to design the whole building including all of the systems inside to meet LEED requirements and get enough points to have the building certified. As a contractor, you are required to comply with the requirements and document, document, document. On a LEED project, I spend an enormous amount of time chasing down documentation not only from my company, but from my subcontractors and suppliers. Frankly, it's a pain in the ass. West Coast contractors have a distinct advantage in that they have been building "green" much longer than we East Coasters have been, so trying to make a supplier in West Virginia understand VOC requirements can be like talking to a rock. It has gotten significantly better in the past four years, but we still have a long way to go.

Then, Marcia, in terms of the attorneys in your office getting LEED certification, I would imagine it would benefit them if they practice construction law. They would need to understand the credits and ins and outs of the system for litigation purposes. Let's say, for example, that we came down to the wire on a LEED project and as the contractor, we suddenly got blamed for not making one of the credits happen. Our attorney would need to understand the credits, what we could and couldn't realistically do, what was required by our contract with the client (because it's gotten to the point where they specifically spell out what credits we are responsible for), and so on. LEED is like the "hot" thing right now and if you're in construction law it certainly will become a big part of any litigation in the future since it's becoming such a huge part of the industry.

Marcia, I hope this sort of answers your questions...if not, definitely email me at buildermama@gmail.com. LEED-er at your service!

*****

Today, we leave for the state convention for general contractors. We're going for Joey's business, not mine. No one from my company is attending this year. And I am going with the intention of trying to help him network with some of my competitors in the hopes that he can pick up a few projects and hopefully not have to lay anyone off at his office. Yay.

We're headed here. It's supposed to be something ridiculous like 12 degrees, but they have one important thing we haven't seen in years here. SNOW. Lots of it.

Monkey Man is beyond excited.

*****

Two days ago, in the car...

"Mommy, can I call you and Daddy 'Mom and Dad' now?"

"Sure sweetheart, why?"

"Well, you know, I am seven now and all."

So now, I'm officially Mom. And a little piece of my heart is broken.

And so it begins

The layoffs started today.

The rumblings have been going on for weeks. The rumors about a "list" have been running like wildfire. I have had an anxious pit in my stomach since New Year's, thanks to EPOD.

We made it through last week. Whew, I thought...maybe they're not going to do anything after all.

Oh no. No. They're doing them. They did them today, and there will be more tomorrow.

The one that hurts the most? My friend Beth. One of my best friends here in the RVA. We've worked together for nine years. We were pregnant together. We eat lunch together every day.

Around 2:30, she called me and asked if I'd come to her office. Her voice was shaky, but I figured maybe she'd had a fight with her husband and just needed a pep talk. I walked across the street to her building, knocked on her door, and walked in to see her red-eyed and packing up her stuff in a few boxes.

We hugged and cried. I know this isn't the last I'll hear from her, she lives about five miles from me and is really good about staying in touch. And luckily for her, her husband owns a small construction company so they will be just fine financially.

Some others today won't be that lucky. And that sucks.

And if there's a bright side to things, I was told today that as of now our team is safe. For now. They are going to be shuffling people around in the office, and today I was told that I'm going to have to help one of the younger project managers with big federal LEED project that he's having difficulty with. And that's fine...the more indispensable I can make myself, the better off I will be in the long run. I hope. I'll still be working with EPOD, but I think with his years of experience in doing huge projects (as well as some really complex projects that no one in our company has the experience to run), we'll be okay.

Tonight might be a happy pill night. The first time I've had chest pains in weeks.

So much for all that good clean livin'

I have tonsillitis. Or maybe an early diagnosis of strep throat. In the words of Dr. W, who took one look in my throat and kind of groaned, "Well, your rapid strep came back negative...however, if we were on a desert island and I didn't have the ability to give you a strep test, I'd err on the side of caution and give you antibiotics. Amoxicillin okay?" Why yes, yes indeedy. And by the way, I like this desert island where I can get pills that make me better.

The diet and exercise is actually going extremely well. I'm excited to weigh in on Monday, because so far I've lost 4.5 pounds. Of course, I didn't work out yesterday and won't today because of feeling kinda crappy, but I got the green light to go for the gusto tomorrow if I'm feeling up to it. I suspect I will be. As for the eating, I've been watching my points carefully and ingesting more fruits, vegetables, and water than I have in YEARS. Seriously, even better than when I originally lost all the weight 3 years ago.

So far, I've noticed a few things - some good, some bad.

Hummus is good.

Hummus is good, but unfortunately it has a rather bad effect on me in terms of making explosive poop.

If I drink water, my skin looks better. And my joints don't creak.

If I drink water in copious amounts, my coworkers get mad because I'm always in the bathroom. Oops.

My body feels better from eating good, wholesome food.

My body feels better, but my mind still wants a large pizza with sausage and pepperoni. And extra cheese, natch.

*****

No layoffs yet at work, unless they happened this afternoon after I left for the doctor. I've heard some rumblings at the office that apparently EPOD, Rookie and I are going to be spared - but two other people that our team inherited might be on the block. It won't really change our workload any, because we've been handling one of their projects already (hence probably what will ultimately do them in) and someone else is getting their other project. The atmosphere around the office has been super tense, but I'm keeping my eyes on the prize and staying focused on taking care of myself and not stressing out about things that I have no control over.

Not to mention, worrying about every bite that is going in my mouth is certainly giving me something else to obsess over.

*****

Have a good weekend, y'all. I'm off to throw some cookies in the oven for my boys, and I have just enough points left for the day to enjoy two of them myself. Yay!

New year, new crap

Hopefully everyone had a great (and safe) New Year's Eve and Day!

WARNING: Panic attack to follow.

Ours was quiet. Just the three of us, having a picnic on the floor in the Man Cave while we watched the bowl games. Quite a contrast from 2007 when we had a houseful of Badasses and various friends. Yeah, I wasn't doing that again this year...and in typical Badass fashion, no one else stepped up to the plate to do anything so there you go.

On New Year's Eve, I had the misfortune of being at the office for almost the entire day. It was deathly quiet and there were only a handful of us working - EPOD and myself being two of the people. As I walked by his office, he beckoned to me and said he wanted to talk to me.

What commenced was an hour-long diatribe about how I need to prepare myself for the possibility of layoffs. I had asked for two days off in mid-January to accompany Joey on a business trip (going to our state general contractors' association convention, which is a prime networking opportunity and Malcolm deemed necessary for us go so we can hopefully drum up some business), and EPOD basically said "Well, I'm not saying not to go, I just wanted to give you a heads-up in case you get any phone calls while you're on your trip that they've laid people off. Or that you're done here." I asked him if he was worried about our team being laid off, and he shrugged and said that yes, he is worried - they have guys younger than him with smaller paychecks that could probably replace him. And of course, I am one of the highest-paid PA's at the company and have seniority, but that doesn't mean I'm irreplacable. No one is irreplacable.

If I hadn't gotten the shaft at review time and been denied a raise, I probably wouldn't give all of this a second thought. He is, you know, Eeyore Prince of Darkness and can find the worst in any situation. Then there's the whole fact that I have heard rumblings that there is a "list" of people that are going to get the ax in January. These rumblings come from pretty reliable sources. EPOD and I will be out of work come May unless we pick up some new projects (which with the market the way it is probably isn't going to happen). The projects are far enough along at this point that someone else could come in and pick up the pieces with little or no problems. If they did decide to lay him off and keep me on, it would probably only be temporary situation until I clean up the detrius and then I'd be shown the door. Or perhaps given to another team to work with.

So, basically, I'm freaking out. We could be okay without me working for a while - sure, we'd have to cut back on things, but we won't have to eat the dog or live under a bridge. We are really lucky in that we are financially in pretty decent shape. Staying home wouldn't be a permanent thing, though - financially and mentally it's important for me to work. I know I shouldn't worry about something that I have no control over - and that may not even happen anyway - but I can't help but feel a little panicky over the whole situation. How easy is it going to be to find a job when the economy is in the crapper and no one is hiring? Ugh.

All this comes on the heels of me being sick of myself and my weight. Monday starts my renewed commitment to living a healthier lifestyle. I need to eat better, I need to move more, I need to commit to controlling my anxiety and taking better care of my emotional well-being. It scares me to think that I might lose my job, because even as prepared as I might be *if* it happens...well, it's going to be hugely devastating. How will I handle it - by plowing myself into a vat of chocolate pudding, Lifetime movies, and misery, or can I keep it under control?

On the good side, I have discussed it with a few friends and might have some possible employment opportunities out there. In all likelihood, I probably wouldn't be out of work forever...I'm just going to have to work at it instead of having opportunities fall into my lap like they have in the past.

So there you have it. Oh, and if anyone wants to virtually bitch-slap EPOD for dropping that little bomb on me on New Year's Eve, please feel free.

The recap

It's been a long but fun day today. We hired a photographer to come to our house to take some cool black & white "lifestyle portraits" of us as a family, she was here about three hours and I am wiped out. Trying to look skinny takes a lot of energy.

Amber, the photographer, likes to take pictures of you doing things that you normally do. They're not really posed pictures, which I like. So Monkey Man and I made brownies together, he read a book to Joey and me, the boys played video games, we worked on homework, and one specific thing I had asked her for was to document his absolute obsession of all things football. We still had some daylight left, so we threw on our Hokies jerseys (well, my shirt wasn't a real jersey but a t-shirt that kind of looks like a jersey) and headed outside to have some fun.

It was going great. We were all laughing and having a great time, but the whole time I was very self-conscious because my shirt was a little on the snug side and all I could think about was "does this look horrible or what?" I was so distracted that I never noticed....

WHAM. The football. Right in my eye.

"I think we're done," said Amber, as my eye started to swell. Ouch. Good thing.

*****

EPOD has had a miserable cold for the past few days. And usually, when he's sick, he develops this habit of picking on us mercilessly. Finally, yesterday, I had just about run out of my goodwill about being the brunt of his wrath and asked him if he was going to be mean all week.

"But it makes me feeeeel better..." he whined. Oh, yeah, I forgot - it's all about YOU.

On the other side, he actually broke down and got a physical done over a week ago and can't get anyone at the doctor's office to call and give him his results. As in, they left him a message, he calls back and can't get a human, then they leave another message for him to call in, then he calls back and can't talk to anyone...you get the picture. We had a health fair back in the summertime and his numbers were so bad that I am surprised he hasn't stroked out at his desk with all the stress he's been under anyway.

*****

Cat Door has been working with Drunk Al for the past few weeks with one goal. For Al to make one good decision a day.

On Monday, Al showed up for work drunk as a skunk. Like drank two 40-oz. beers at 5 AM and showed up for work at 6 AM. So Cat Door told him that he would take him along, but he wasn't allowed to get on the ladder until he sobered up. Around 10 AM, Al seemed like he was okay so he started to climb up the ladder...slipped on the second rung...and fell into the biggest mud puddle ever. He got up, brushed the mud off of his face, and announced that he wanted to go home. "Um, hell no," said Cat Door. "You showed up drunk, you've done nothing but stand around all day, and now you want me to take you home? Forget it." So Al finished up the day, spending most of it earthbound and just running siding pieces back and forth.

"Maybe you are a little overambitious," I told him. "Maybe one good decision a WEEK would be a good place to start?"

He just rolled his eyes. His heart is in the right place, but I'm wondering how long he's going to limp along with Al before he either finds Al dead one morning, or Al finally pisses him off to the point of no return.

*****

Joey's Rotary club party was last Friday night. I ended up leaving my office party really early so I could get home and get gussied up to go. Two years ago, they moved it from the ghetto country club (which to call it a country club is a huge stretch) to a very nice private banquet facility about 30 minutes from our house. The food is fantastic and we usually have a pretty good time.

I actually purchased a new dress to wear to my company's fancy Christmas party this year, and I had the idea that Friday would be a good test drive for the dress - I'd have over a week to get it cleaned in time to wear to my company party. But when I got home, Joey had kind of already decided that he didn't want to get really dressed up so the party dress went back in the closet and I picked out another dress.

The dress I ended up wearing was one I bought to wear to a wedding last winter - it is burgundy and very pretty - however, it's pretty low-cut. I always make sure I wear a great bra with it to keep the puppies in line, so it's not like I'm going to fall out of the thing.

What I forget about Rotary is that most of the men are in their 60's, very wealthy, and apparently pretty horny. I spent most of the night having the codgers standing in line and asking me to have my picture taken with them. And inevitably, they would put their arm around my shoulder and squeeeeeeze just so, making the sistahs a little more pronounced than they should've been. And, in one super-ballsy move, one of the members actually gave me his business card and told me he'd like to take me to lunch sometime so he could get to know me better. Is that what the old people are calling it nowadays? Geez.

I guess the bright part would be that if anything should happen to Joey, there are a lot of old, rich, horny dudes out there just waiting for me.

Ew, I think I just threw up a little.

*****

My dad. Well, he seems to be doing about the same.

The week after Thanksgiving, I got a frantic phone call from my sister that my dad was having problems with his bladder leaking, so he was headed to the doctor to have some tests run including a scope of his bladder. All I could think of was that the cancer had moved into his bladder, probably causing this loss of control.

So on my birthday, he went in for the tests and they didn't find anything in his bladder. The doctor thinks that he should probably cut back on iced tea and drink only like 3 glasses a day versus, oh, 3 gallons a day. No, he doesn't drink that much, but it seems like maybe he's drinking way too much. Then within a few days, he fessed up that he's getting up every two hours at night to pee...so my sister and I are thinking that maybe it's a UTI now that was stirred up from the scope.

My sister and I are headed down to visit my parents for four days after Christmas. Joey will bring Monkey Man down for a few days too and squeeze an in-law trip in there as well. I think a lot of the trip will be trying to pin my parents down, because I have a sneaking suspicion that they are candy-coating a lot of this because they don't want to worry us.

He has been in great spirits, however - and is so excited that we are coming that he says it's all he can think about. That makes me feel great!

*****

As for me, well, I've been having chest pains off and on for the past year. The past few weeks have been bad - bad to the point that the day I decorated the Christmas tree I had to stop everything and just SIT. I never do that.

I finally did what I've been needing to do - I booked an appointment with a REAL doctor versus the urgent care place. I chose Cat Door's doctor since he and the Mrs. have been ecstatically happy with this doctor and I think the doc has done a great job working with Cat Door's low blood pressure problems. Not to mention he will do house calls. And he's my age, so no chance of him retiring any time soon.

My first appointment is Christmas Eve - a "sick" appointment so they can "find something" that will allow my insurance to pay for a full physical at no extra charge to me other than a co-pay. I could rant and rave about the fact that it's insane for the insurance company to not let me have a stinking physical (even though the last time I had one was when I was 18) without there being something wrong...but I won't.

In the meantime, the strangest thing is that since I made the appointment I have only had one or two small twinges. I know it's stress, but I'd feel better having someone tell me who might actually be qualified to make a diagnosis. And if nothing else, it's a chance to build a relationship with a doctor which is something I've needed for a long, long time.

*****

Have a great Thursday. I have GOT to finish up my Christmas stuff and have no freaking idea what I'm going to get my mother, so pray for me. Ehhh.

Craziness

It's been a hectic week. And it's only Tuesday.

Monday, I came into work to find out that EPOD had gotten a call from Brandon (Chachi's replacement) over the weekend that his father had passed away very unexpectedly. It was a huge, huge shock - I knew Brandon had gone to his parents' for the weekend since his sister was flying in from Minnesota. I'm glad they were able to be there with their mother, and his brother was also able to come in from Florida.

So we launched into crisis mode since we don't know how long he'll be gone. I get the impression that he is the pillar of the family, the one who always wrangles the problems to the ground. So I think his mom is going to need him a lot in the months to come.

Meanwhile, the sucky economy is playing havoc on a lot of our subcontractors so I have been inundated with phone calls begging for early payment. It sucks because WE don't have the money, either...we pay the subcontractors when we get paid, it's very standard in the industry (or at least in these parts). I've worked on the subcontractor side before, and I feel their pain - and there's not much I can do to help. By 3 PM today I had stopped answering the phone since I was getting nothing done.

I need to make two pies tomorrow when I get home. I left the damn pie crust and sour cream in the fridge at work. And I'm out of foil.

Instead of whining about everything, though, I have a good Monkey Man report. He is sleeping. And not coughing, knock on wood. I actually went in his room on Sunday night to watch him sleep for about 10 minutes and was astonished at how much better his quality of sleep has become. No snoring, no tossing and turning, and just slow and steady breathing. He wakes up in a much better mood, isn't nodding off in the car when he sits still for longer than 2.7 seconds, and is overall just looking better. He says he feels better.

And now I'm wondering...what took so long for us to realize what was wrong? Huh.

My brother Dave is flying in tonight at midnight for the rest of the week. I am super excited. It has almost taken the pain of the upcoming Forced In-Law Interaction away. And my parents are coming in tomorrow.

I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving for the first time in a long, long, long time.

When karma and sleeplessness collide

On Thursday, after the unpleasant Badass drama of Wednesday, I came in to work to find out that EPOD was scheduled to be out of the office all day. It was at that point, or really at lunchtime, that I decided to do what any good employee would do. I took two of my friends to lunch and we polished off two pitchers of sangria.

We laughed, we giggled, and had a really, really nice time. I finally relaxed for the first time last week since Heather and I chilled out Saturday night with some vino. It was nice to just have my girls with me.

While we were waiting for the check, I noticed that my throat was really starting to hurt. Hurt as in "pain of a thousand flaming swords stabbing my throat repeatedly." I shrugged it off as possibly being very dry and hot in the restaurant, and we headed back to work.

As we pulled back in the parking lot, I noticed that EPOD's car was back. SHIT. I went slinking back to my office and after dropping my purse off, went into the restroom and proceeded to gargle as much citrus-flavored mouthwash as I could, put some Visine in my eyes, and then sprayed myself all over with stinky hairspray. I went back into my office and shut the door quietly, and then pounced on my Blackberry...

Me to Cat Door: "Great news, cat scan is normal, went out at lunch and got drunk. Is that wrong?"

Cat Door to me: "I thought you did that every day."

Yeah. Not so much. So after about an hour, I finally was summoned to EPOD's office to review some reports with him and I managed to keep my shit together. The buzz had worn off and I was just back to my usual goofy self.

Note to self: Catching a buzz at lunchtime on Thursday is not a good idea. Catching a buzz at lunchtime on Thursday and having your boss show up unexpectedly and then trying to hide it is guaranteed bad karma.

By the time I got home Thursday, my throat was really hurting. Like worse than the flaming swords. So I brewed a whole pot of green tea and guzzled it down, popped some Motrin, and then crawled into bed as soon as Monkey Man went to bed.

Friday arrived and I felt better. Or at least in the morning I did - at lunchtime I went and met Cat Door downtown for lunch and felt just fine. By the late afternoon, I was feeling like pure death and decided that throat lozenges were only going to prolong the agony without actually solving anything. I drove straight to the urgent care place, was in and out in 20 minutes with a diagnosis of an upper respiratory infection in the very early stages. So early that if I hadn't had my usual doctor, they probably would've sent me home with nothing but the "it's only a virus" speech. After hearing my tales of woe about my eight sleepless weeks, he hooked me up with some antibiotics without question and sent me on home.

So I've been laying kind of low - other than a trip to WalMart and hauling Monkey Man to a birthday party complete with petting zoo, I have been in bed watching lots of Real Housewives episodes. Joey has disappeared to Bleaksburg to watch his beloved Hokies and with a 5:30 game time, it will be really, really late when he comes home. And if he wakes me up, I will kill him. Period.

I actually do feel better. I think/hope I caught it early enough to keep it from moving into my chest. And I have really rested today. And I have been taking Tylenol Multi-Symptom Cold - normally I eschew such things, but this time I am determined not to be miserable and therefore make everyone around me miserable. I need to kick this thing before my parents come, because the last thing my dad needs is to catch some crud from yours truly.

*****

I decided to accept Amy's friend request. She posted on my wall right away, I replied back and asked if she's coming into town during the holidays.

Maybe we can meet for coffee or something. I'm throwing the olive branch out there, so we'll see what happens from here.

Suckage

Today was my annual review. Usually I look forward to them with a mix of anticipation and nerves - because I know they're always going to be pretty favorable and of course, I'll get a little more moolah.

I know the economy is in the shitter. The local marketplace has really slowed down. We, however, seem to be doing just fine. So I listened to EPOD's boss - who handles all of our reviews - go on and on about how fortunate my company is to remain pretty much untouched by the whole recession thing. My eyes started to glaze over, in all likelihood, because it's pretty much the same stuff every year.

I have never, until the 4 years ago when I went to work for EPOD, have a situation where my direct boss really didn't review my performance. Now, EPOD fills out the form, and then his boss basically does whatever the hell he wants to. Most of the time we end up shooting the shit for 15 minutes, I get my raise and we're done.

There was no raise this year. Despite the fact that when EPOD was finally allowed to speak I had the most glowing review ever. According to EPOD's boss, "we're not really doing much this year for anyone, and I'm not going to be able to give you anything this year..." and at that point, I pretty much mentally checked out of the review process.

The kicker to all of this is that he didn't even fucking read my review from EPOD prior to the second I walked into his office. Seriously, he had already made up his mind what he was going to do before either EPOD or I got in there. The look on EPOD's face when his boss dropped the bomb that I wasn't going to get a raise this year was priceless...a mix of shock and disgust.

Later on, I was beckoned into EPOD's office where he profusely apologized and assured me that 1.) if he'd had any idea that I was going to get the shaft, he would've certainly prepped me so I wasn't caught with that "deer in the headlights look", and 2.) the lack of raise certainly didn't reflect on my performance this year. Period.

While that was all nice and warm and fuzzy, it left me with a serious case of the pissies. Yes, I'm one of the senior females in the office. I'm probably at the top of my pay range. And yes, in this day and time I am so lucky to even have a job so I probably should quit bitching now, right?

But what I was left feeling like was that the decision - which obviously wasn't made based on my performance - was probably based on the fact that I am in the fortunate position of not needing to rely on my salary to put food in my family's mouths or make my mortgage payment. And while yes, I'm thankful for that, I'm pissed as hell. Since when did that become grounds for deciding if someone deserves additional compensation? Hell, I would've been happy with a mere cost of living increase.

Add to this that we've now entered Week 8 of Coughstravaganza 2008 and my attitude is decidedly shitty. Sorry. And if you're one of my friends, I'm not avoiding you as much as saving you from me either ripping your head off and stuffing it down your throat or the unpleasant idea of me bursting into tears because I missed last night's episode of Top Chef. Sleep deprivation is a bitch, my friends.

On a much more pleasant note, Heather of Mama Maven fame is headed here tomorrow where we have plans to run the 8K on Saturday (if the weather holds out, and by run I mean "stagger until I drop into the gutter and show up on the front page of the Sports Section in the Embarrassment Column"), celebrate Monkey Man's birthday with a passel of Badasses, and catch up on some good girlie time. I love spending time with Maven! So it will be all good.

Tomorrow is the asthma test. Joey will be handling that, while I will be at work attempting to put on a happy face. Or not.

Rupture

I don't know what it is about me, but it seems like every time we're getting ready to leave on vacation I get sick.

Last week, my ear started giving me some trouble. It seemed like just another lovely wax clog, so I got Joey to dose me up with some ear goop a few times and attempted to flush my right ear out. It really didn't seem to be any better when I finished, but I figured my ear just needed to drain.

By Thursday, my throat was feeling a little scratchy and my ear was kind of itchy. The kind of itchy where you feel like sticking an icepick in your ear for some relief. I went to football practice for a little while, Joey came to relieve me so I went home and literally crawled into bed.

Friday, I worked a half-day and then came home and fell asleep on the couch. A quick nap. A quick nap that lasted two hours and left me feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.

So after dinner, it was off to the urgent care place. A double-ear infection, and when they flushed both of my ears out my left ear bled. Yippee. I've had a few doses of my Z-pack and feel better for the most part, but I'm wary. The doctor warned me that if I hadn't come in, in all likelihood my eardrum would've burst when I got on the airplane on Wednesday. Not exactly what you want to hear when you're going to a foreign country, right? Ew.

*****

Wednesday morning, we are headed off to Cabo San Lucas. We went two years ago and had a great time, so I'm excited to be not only going back to such a fantastic place but getting away for a while.

Meanwhile, I've been trying to coordinate Monkey Man's schedule along with the babysitter's work and school schedule. She has gone back to school - dental hygienist school - and between classes and a big test on Saturday it's been somewhat challenging making sure that Monkey Man will be taken care of and be safe and sound. I trust her...I just am a little freaked out because we're having to use some friends to pitch in and cover things a few times while we're gone. This is one of those times when I wish either set of grandparents was able (or willing) to step in, and I really wish my sister would've offered to help. But, as usual, it's just us. Sigh.

*****

While we're gone, there's going to be some serious discussin' going on.

I got a job offer last week.

A former mentor of mine from work - who left two years ago - started his own company a year ago and is finally ready to hire some help. He does home renovation work - kind of like Cat Door, but on a bigger scale. We went to lunch last week and I totally thought he was taking me to pick my brain about LEED when in reality he threw out the job offer on the table.

It's tempting. Scary, but tempting. Basically, I would be able to set my own hours. I would be working part time. I would get away from the toxic environment of my office. We could probably do away with The World's Most Expensive Preschool. I would get to work from home sometimes. We might actually get a home-cooked meal every now and then. I could be more involved with Monkey Man's school.

Then there's what I would be giving up. The stability of a job I've had for twelve (!) years. My friends. The financial freedom of a full-time salary. My great 401(k) plan which includes 50% matching.

Things here at Builder Mama HQ have been kind of rough as of late. Basically, we're both working our asses off and are so tied up in everything else, we are like two ships passing in the night. We started date nights a few weeks ago so we could at least have a few hours together every few weeks to talk without being interrupted a million times. We're both exhausted.

I can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, it's time to sacrifice a little of the money to get a little better quality of life. I'm just not sure Joey is buying into that, though.

It should be interesting.

Another day, another birthday

Today was Joey's 39th birthday. Yes, he is really 39 - not 40 and trying to hide it. This is the glorious day I have every year where I get to be younger for a whopping four months, and I enjoy the hell out of it.

We just rolled in the door from spending the evening with David, Yvonne, and their daughter downtown where we ate, drank, laughed, and played pool. It was fun, and just the kind of birthday that Joey likes. Whereas I like having a big party and having all of the attention focused on me (because as we all know, it's all about ME) - he prefers something low key. Really low key. So other than a Virginia Tech birthday cake, we kept it just the way he likes it.

Happy birthday, babe. I love you more than I can ever say.

*****

The weekend visit to the 'rents went extremely well, and I came back exhausted. Those old people tried to run us into the ground!

The highlight of the weekend was my dad taking us to the tank museum. Since he is the veteran of World War II, Korea and Vietnam, he has lots of stories and kept us enraptured the whole time. I couldn't even begin to try and retell any of the stories, but usually they are of the nature that make the Hogan's Heroes crew look like a bunch of brainiacs. He was hilarious.

The next blood test is six weeks from now, and we'll see what the status of the cancer is. At least we'll get through the Texas trip before we have to go through that. He looked good, though, and my poor mom actually got caught up on some sleep. I think it helped her knowing there was another adult (and light sleeper) in the house in case something happened. Either that or she was just that worn out, because one morning she slept in until 8 AM. Seriously, I have NEVER seen my mother sleep past 6 AM in my entire life, so I was starting to wonder if I needed to check her pulse.

On a sad note, my aunt - my mother's sister who lives next door and our family was estranged from for 18 years before they made up last year - has Alzheimer's. It has come on so strong and so fast that she doesn't know who I am anymore, even though she did just a few months ago. And in all ironies, my mom is having to care for her. Kind of bittersweet. I'm just glad we got to talk again before her mind started to go.

And I had a great visit with my cousin, Laura. She lives right across the road from my parents and we don't always get to see each other, but when we do it's like no time has passed at all. We got to looking up classmates on Facebook and giggling just like we did back in high school. It was freaking awesome.

*****

This week is shaping up to be a ball-buster. I'm hoping to post every day, but if I miss a day please don't flog me too much. And I'm still trying to think of a good nickname for my new team member, but the right one hasn't come up yet. I have an idea, but I need to think on it a few days.

The final countdown

It's finally here.

Chachi's last day is Friday.

I hate to admit it, but I'm actually going to miss that guy. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that he would've turned out to be worth half a shit, but he did. And now, he's off to fame and fortune in Chicago as he pursues an MBA at Northwestern. Lucky dog.

He seriously agonized over his decision for months. Finally, one day he came in my office and asked me for my opinion. I'm not sure what he expected me to say, although in all likelihood he probably thought I'd talk him out of it. What I ended up telling him was...go. Go while you can. Go while you have just yourself and your wife to worry about, no student loans, parents in good health, and the freedom to be able to do it. Yeah, he's going to rack up an assload of debt, but I think in the long run he'll be a lot happier.

EPOD, of course, tried to talk him out of it. I'm not sure if it was jealousy that Chachi has decided to go into something other than construction (well, he wants to be a developer so it is involved in a way but then again like a whole new world), or wanting to hold onto Chachi since we've had pretty much every other team member slowly migrate out of the office.

Anyhow, today I helped him sort through the piles of plans and samples in his office and tried to figure out where we were going to put everything since some other project manager has already laid claim to his office. I'm less than enthused because honestly, the guy is kind of a jerk and has the personality of a rock for the most part. At least with Chachi I had comic relief at all times. The guy could always find something to laugh about, which when you're working with Eeyore, Prince of Darkness, is vital to not wanting to go home and stick your head in the oven.

I'm going to miss him, dammit.

So while we might not be best friends...I'm hoping that I'll hear from him every now and then to let me know how he's doing. I know he'll do great.

A little eye candy for the ladies

Remember this commercial?

This pretty much sums up Tuesday afternoon at my office.

About six months ago, some no-name construction company started building two spec office buildings directly behind our little office complex. We had a big time watching all the OSHA violations like guys dangling off the roof and such. The one thing that was lacking, though, was any good eye candy.

The accounting department windows look directly into the backs of these two new buildings, so we would sit in Robin's office in the mornings and watch the magic happen. Then, sadly, the shell of the buildings were completed and we hadn't had anyone over there in at least two months working.

Until today. The fine men of the power company were outside working on one of the power poles when I was in Robin's office returning a folder.

"Hey, look at that guy," said Robin, "He's pretty hot!"

I peered out the window. Yup, he was hot all right. He was probably in his mid-40's, had a goatee, and was built like things I've dreamed about. He was on the ground while his cohort (who wasn't hot) was up in the cherry picker messing around with the lines.

Suddenly, the guy walked over to the company truck and started taking his shirt off. "Holy shit! He's taking his freaking shirt off!" We all went running to the window. But he was slick, our little power man was, he positioned himself so we got just a flash of naked flesh.

By this point there are several of us gathered at the windows in the office. He turned away from the truck, buttoning his shirt back up. Then, he reached around and picked up a water bottle from the side of the truck.

"Next thing you know, he's going to start pouring water all over himself," I joked.

And you know what? That's exactly what he did. He took his hardhat off and started pouring water all over the top of his head. Then he'd take a swig of water. Then pour some more over his head.

We were rolling on the floor. You know what? If he knew we were all standing there, he was a total dork. And even if he didn't know we were all watching? Total dork.

Good times, good times. Of course, this is what you usually get on a construction site:

Happy hump day

Minus the humping, of course. This is a family show.

So yesterday, I found out that I will have not one, not two, but three new projects starting. All in May. With two team members leaving in June and/or July. So much for my plans of a leisurely summer filled with internet surfing and long lunches, huh?

It's kind of a running joke among my friends and myself. I've been doing this gig for so long that I have it down to a science - not to mention we have so many freaking people on our team that it's been like a big vacation for the past four years that I've worked for EPOD. My last job required me to do pretty much everything except drive a backhoe, so this is like a freaking piece of cake. And as I tell Cat Door all the time, if I get in a good two or three hours of work at the office it's been a productive day.

You may hate me now.

So look forward to much whining and complaining over the next few months as I am ripped away from online shopping and forced to actually put in a whole day's work. Maybe this will bode well for me getting another raise in October after all...

Long week of nothing in particular

Where did this week go?

It's been a very strange week. Highlights as follows:

*EPOD has been on the warpath all week, to the point where Chachi has even lost his patience with the bad attitude. "I feel like I should just go ahead and put a loaded handgun on his desk so he can get it over with already," snarled Chachi. Ouch. You know when Boy Wonder starts snarling, it's bad. Really bad.
*I had a dime-sized patch of precancerous skin frozen off my cheekbone on Tuesday. The good news is like the one I had taken off my nose last fall it should heal up nicely. Dr. K was her normal non-bedside-manner self and I think she was even cackling under her breath as I squirmed with the pain of having that stuff burning my face. She is evil, pure evil.
*My parents are coming on Sunday. My dad is receiving an award for his service in World War II and the Korean War. More on this over the weekend, because I have been just in knots over the whole thing.
*Joey has been, well, cranky. The local construction market is slowing down and that makes a crabby husband. Apparently this is a rampant problem, since Debbie whispered to me at dinner last night that Harper has been a total bastard too. Interesting.
*I am taking next Monday off work to take my mother shopping for clothes. Kill me now.

Today's mathematical equation was:

1 Builder Mama + 5 Pomegranate Martinis = 1 Big Fat Head + 1 Upset Stomach

Not pretty. I should know better to do that on a Wednesday, wait until Thursday so you only have to work ONE day hungover, right? Gah, I'm such an amateur.

And I am telling you right now...if the damn dog doesn't stop barking at leaves blowing, I'm going to develop a marketing campaign for "Corgi...The Other White Meat." Jesus.

Bring on the weekend!

Shiny happy pores

You know, it's really hard to maintain a degree of personal hotness when you feel like you have a hairball stuck in your throat.

Has anyone else been dying from allergies this year? It seems like this is my worst year ever, to the point where I actually invested in allergy medication and still feel like someone shoved a bunch of socks in every orifice of my head. On the good side, it has helped the sinus pressure. On the bad side, the IT department hates when I drool on my keyboard at work. Oops.

Today was almost a freaking vacation at work. EPOD has been stricken with some horrid cold so he has basically been AWOL all week. Dave's wife finally went into labor at 41.5 weeks so he was missing all day. Chachi was at the jobsite until 3 PM, and Chris was so delirious that Dave was going to be out for a few days that he disappeared to the "jobsite" (read: sports bar to watch basketball). I basically read emails, surfed the net, and tried to do as little as humanly possible without it being blatantly obvious that I was goofing off. Oh, and I managed to slide in a two-hour lunch to get a facial from Celeste the Skin Goddess. I might feel like hell, but my pores are downright sparkly.

Ever since I went off Yasmin back in October, my skin has been a virtual Mardi Gras of Unfortunateness. Either I have a zillion blackheads, or I get a few huge cystic zits in strategic places like right in the middle of my chin. Excuse me, I am almost menopausal, isn't it about time for the acne to stop? Meanwhile, I still do my usual skincare regimen and have switched makeup brands four times. I went from MAC to Bare Minerals to Clinique and now finally seem to have settled on Laura Mercier which of course is only available at two stores here - Saks Fifth Avenue, where you have to take a home equity loan to just walk in the door, and Nordstrom which of course is like on the total opposite end of the city and beckons me like a siren with no credit limit. Geesh. So I will be relegated to purchase it via The Internet, which thankfully allows me to escape without buying $50 in lipgloss every time I go in the store (thanks, MAC, for feeding my lip-goop obsession).

*****

Updated: 10:43 PM. We just got home from the doc in the box. Monkey Man has yet another undetermined disease, this time he's running a fever and is achy (and has a headache), but the flu and strep tests plus a blood test all came back fine. The blood test only means we're probably at the very beginning of this thing and it hasn't had time to register as viral, but dammit - I am mad that I didn't get anything for a $20 copay and an hour wait except some Tylenol and crappy fruit punch. Sigh.

I guess I know what I'm doing tonight. And tomorrow. And this weekend. Bleh.