Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Another Month. Another Post
I'm not sure what's up with my infrequent posts lately. How can a month fly by without so much as a "here I am wasting time at work" update? Perhaps Facebook is becoming too addictive and time consuming. Or maybe my life isn't nearly as exciting as I once thought. Nah, that can't be it.
So what has been happening in my life this past month?
Well for starters, my business partner and I have been getting ready for me to fully take over the business. He's been at it for about a thousand years and he wants to find something else. Something full-time so he doesn't have to have all these little side jobs. Something that pays. We're pretty much there. He's got a few things here he wants to finish up, then he'll be in one day a month to do the book-keeping for me.
I had an appointment with a specialist to get a throat scope done in early August. Before my father passed away earlier this year, he complained of a burning sensation when he ate. I've had that sensation a few times lately, and being the hypochondriac that I am, I demanded that my doctor send me for a scope to make sure I didn't have esophageal cancer like my father. I was all worked up getting ready for this scope to happen, only to discover it was only an initial meeting. The scope won't take place for a couple of months. Sheesh. The doctor put my mind at ease though. Based on my complaints and symptoms, it sounds like I might have some reflux, but he said it's not a bad idea to get it checked to put my mind at ease.
Thank you, Dr. Specialist!
Screw you, shitty family doctor-in-training who didn't want to give me the requisition for the scope!
Just before the end of August, Zoe, my little 4 1/2 year old had her soccer finals. Her usual games took place on weeknights right around the time I get done work. Tack on the hour drive, and I didn't get to see any of her games. Luckily, the finals were on a Saturday, and at that time I still had Saturdays off. I drove in to Hooterville, stopped by my baby-mama Weezie's house, but the door was locked and there was no answer. I assumed they were already at the soccer park, so I headed on over. I arrived to find the parking lot jam packed, except for the large muddy pit that I managed to park in. I fumbled with my lawn chair, camera case, umbrella, the dog, her water bottle and my coffee and made my way onto the field.
Apparently there were about 6 or so different games going on at the time. I wandered about with all the aforementioned gear, trying to find the right pitch. The problem with not being at any of her regular season games is that I had no idea what colour her uniform was. I was wandering around blind. Three of the pitches had kids under the age of 5 playing, so it could have been any of them. I had no luck finding Zoe or Weezie, so I called the house and Weezie's friend answered.
"What time is Zoe's game?" I asked.
"2:50" I'm told.
"OK, it's 2:48, where are they?"
"They're in the bathroom. They had a little emergency."
"Oh my god, they're still at home!? The game starts in two minutes. OK, just tell me what colour uniforms they have."
"Blue."
"There are three different shades of blue out here. Do you know which one?"
"Not the really light one, and not the navy one."
"So the royal blue. Alright I see them on the field. I'll go set up there and wait for them to get here."
As I hang up the phone and try to walk, I feel resistance on the leash. Stella is in the process of taking a steaming dump on the grounds in front of countless little kids and their parents and coaches. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that sometimes she has very wet poop which often doesn't break free and I need to wipe the little girl. So with an audience watching, I put down all of my accessories and do what I had to do. I bagged up the evidence, picked everything back up again, walked to a nearby garbage can and made my way to the sideline of the pitch. Ten minutes into the game, Weezie shows up and gets Zoe padded and dressed to go on. The only one who didn't want to be there was Zoe. She had played a game that morning that her team won, and now she was just bored. She kept wandering off the pitch to come over and play with the dog.
"Get back on the field Zoe, you're team needs you!", we shouted.
We were met with any number of protests including, but not limited to, "I'm tired, I'm hot, I want to play with Stella". The only time she wanted to play was when she was on the sidelines with the other kids. Then she came to life. On the pitch she just stood around and watched the ball whiz past her. Good times.
Oh ya, they lost that game.
That takes us to the cottage. On August 29th, FWIG, his mother, The Squeeze and I went up north for a week of relaxation. Nothing terribly exciting happened, which is fine by me on a vacation. Oh. Except for spotting a black bear upon returning from town one afternoon. It certainly made me think twice about going for walks in the woods for the rest of the week.
It was a week filled with reading, eating, and a bit of knitting. Right up until the point where I realized I screwed up and had to pull out a few inches of my scarf. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, or some such crap. All is well, and it's nearly done now.
This morning I stepped on the scale. And I wept. Actually it was more of a gasp of terror. Now that my chiropractor is getting my back somewhat back in shape, I might be able to get my ass back on the treadmill and work off some of the poundage I've packed on over the past year and a half when my mother became ill and was hospitalized. It's SO easy to fall off the wagon.
Last night I watched the season premiere of "The Biggest Loser". Mainly so I could feel a bit better about myself. Now I'll watch them lose 20 pounds a week while I try to lose one or two. They're gonna piss me off.
And with that I'll end my monthly rant. Really, I'll try to be back sooner!
So what has been happening in my life this past month?
Well for starters, my business partner and I have been getting ready for me to fully take over the business. He's been at it for about a thousand years and he wants to find something else. Something full-time so he doesn't have to have all these little side jobs. Something that pays. We're pretty much there. He's got a few things here he wants to finish up, then he'll be in one day a month to do the book-keeping for me.
I had an appointment with a specialist to get a throat scope done in early August. Before my father passed away earlier this year, he complained of a burning sensation when he ate. I've had that sensation a few times lately, and being the hypochondriac that I am, I demanded that my doctor send me for a scope to make sure I didn't have esophageal cancer like my father. I was all worked up getting ready for this scope to happen, only to discover it was only an initial meeting. The scope won't take place for a couple of months. Sheesh. The doctor put my mind at ease though. Based on my complaints and symptoms, it sounds like I might have some reflux, but he said it's not a bad idea to get it checked to put my mind at ease.
Thank you, Dr. Specialist!
Screw you, shitty family doctor-in-training who didn't want to give me the requisition for the scope!
Just before the end of August, Zoe, my little 4 1/2 year old had her soccer finals. Her usual games took place on weeknights right around the time I get done work. Tack on the hour drive, and I didn't get to see any of her games. Luckily, the finals were on a Saturday, and at that time I still had Saturdays off. I drove in to Hooterville, stopped by my baby-mama Weezie's house, but the door was locked and there was no answer. I assumed they were already at the soccer park, so I headed on over. I arrived to find the parking lot jam packed, except for the large muddy pit that I managed to park in. I fumbled with my lawn chair, camera case, umbrella, the dog, her water bottle and my coffee and made my way onto the field.
Apparently there were about 6 or so different games going on at the time. I wandered about with all the aforementioned gear, trying to find the right pitch. The problem with not being at any of her regular season games is that I had no idea what colour her uniform was. I was wandering around blind. Three of the pitches had kids under the age of 5 playing, so it could have been any of them. I had no luck finding Zoe or Weezie, so I called the house and Weezie's friend answered.
"What time is Zoe's game?" I asked.
"2:50" I'm told.
"OK, it's 2:48, where are they?"
"They're in the bathroom. They had a little emergency."
"Oh my god, they're still at home!? The game starts in two minutes. OK, just tell me what colour uniforms they have."
"Blue."
"There are three different shades of blue out here. Do you know which one?"
"Not the really light one, and not the navy one."
"So the royal blue. Alright I see them on the field. I'll go set up there and wait for them to get here."
As I hang up the phone and try to walk, I feel resistance on the leash. Stella is in the process of taking a steaming dump on the grounds in front of countless little kids and their parents and coaches. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that sometimes she has very wet poop which often doesn't break free and I need to wipe the little girl. So with an audience watching, I put down all of my accessories and do what I had to do. I bagged up the evidence, picked everything back up again, walked to a nearby garbage can and made my way to the sideline of the pitch. Ten minutes into the game, Weezie shows up and gets Zoe padded and dressed to go on. The only one who didn't want to be there was Zoe. She had played a game that morning that her team won, and now she was just bored. She kept wandering off the pitch to come over and play with the dog.
"Get back on the field Zoe, you're team needs you!", we shouted.
We were met with any number of protests including, but not limited to, "I'm tired, I'm hot, I want to play with Stella". The only time she wanted to play was when she was on the sidelines with the other kids. Then she came to life. On the pitch she just stood around and watched the ball whiz past her. Good times.
Oh ya, they lost that game.
That takes us to the cottage. On August 29th, FWIG, his mother, The Squeeze and I went up north for a week of relaxation. Nothing terribly exciting happened, which is fine by me on a vacation. Oh. Except for spotting a black bear upon returning from town one afternoon. It certainly made me think twice about going for walks in the woods for the rest of the week.
It was a week filled with reading, eating, and a bit of knitting. Right up until the point where I realized I screwed up and had to pull out a few inches of my scarf. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, or some such crap. All is well, and it's nearly done now.
This morning I stepped on the scale. And I wept. Actually it was more of a gasp of terror. Now that my chiropractor is getting my back somewhat back in shape, I might be able to get my ass back on the treadmill and work off some of the poundage I've packed on over the past year and a half when my mother became ill and was hospitalized. It's SO easy to fall off the wagon.
Last night I watched the season premiere of "The Biggest Loser". Mainly so I could feel a bit better about myself. Now I'll watch them lose 20 pounds a week while I try to lose one or two. They're gonna piss me off.
And with that I'll end my monthly rant. Really, I'll try to be back sooner!
