I had a virus. A virus of the computer variety. One that took my computer to it’s knees. And one that has unfortunately killed my trusty vaio more than once over the last couple of months.
But I’m back!
Here’s the problem with being married to an IT guy. He will fix it himself but it will take over a week. And each time I ask about it I get the same “I’m working on it” response. Working on it my ass.
Meanwhile my feed reader is stacking up in epic proportions. Thankfully google reader was kind and listed my unread items as “1000+” instead of an actual number. Makes it seem more manageable. I’m sure I’ll be skimming for a couple of hours at least.
I have a dr.’s appt this afternoon that I’m hoping will result in me walking out of there on my own two feet but seeing how the old familiar “twinge” has returned in the last couple of days, I’m not holding out much hope. Oh well. What’s three more weeks on crutches? :weeping in corner:
So I’m off to read about people’s weight loss, video game news, military photos, and the bsc >$1000 chick… good times!
I don’t know if I’ve made this post before (wouldn’t be surprised if I have) but I’m going to go ahead and do it again.
Caveat: I have an extremely overactive imagination. Does not mean that the following post is not true, but just keep that in mind.
Okay, so.
The carpenters are still here. Well not right now but they just left and are coming back tomorrow to finish up.
We are standing around shooting the shit earlier and dude says “I think your house is haunted or something.”
If you could have seen MrBunny’s face at this moment it would have perfectly captured what it must be like to be married to me. Because as soon as he said this I was like “I KNOW IT IS!!!” and MrBunny knew that this little bit of validation would be all I needed to get going.
Here’s the thing. We’ve been in this house for almost a year now and there have been some downright spooky things that go on.
Our bathroom door for example. It will shut itself. I’ll hear the dogs drinking from the toilet, go back there to yell at them, and then find them sitting outside the bathroom door which is then completely shut. And unless my dogs are the first canines with opposable thumbs (in which case I’ll be calling the newspapers instead of sitting here writing a blog post), something else must be closing the door.
I’ve tried to see if it’s just the way the house has settled but I’ve not once been able to make the door shut on it’s own.
That and there has been numerous times I’ve noticed that the dogs were quiet and found them sitting and staring at the bathroom door. My dogs are not calm quiet creatures. Bronco is hell on wheels, especially when he is out of my sight. So for them to sit and stare is an odd occurrence. But they do it- sit and stare (for quite a while) at the door that closes itself.
Back to the carpenter. Apparently while doing the project at our house he has had two guys who had worked for him for years both quit within days of each other for different reasons. The one guy quit on Friday afternoon (in my driveway no less!) and then the other kid quit this morning.
On it’s own wouldn’t be that weird. But when it’s coupled with two other occurrences in that last year it gets a little creepy.
When we had the tree guys here (oddly enough to remove trees) one guy had a heart attack and two guys ended up quitting- while working here. Then we had the group that did the yard. Three of them were arrested after the first day of working on our yard. The boss came by the next day to finish the job himself because in addition to the three in jail, his one other employee had quit.
That is five people quitting, three arrests, and one heart attack- in one year.
Even the most skeptical amongst us have to admit that all those things together are a little freaky.
I’m totally calling the Ghost Adventures guys. That’d be entertaining.
First off- something that will make my mother have a heart attack.
It’s a big bean bag chair that has a king size “bed” inside it! How cool is that? And it would be made even better by the look on my mom’s face when I ask her to have a seat. The horror would know no bounds. Pure entertainment.
I asked for a mamajama blender for christmas this year but didn’t get it (although I did get a gift certificate for the Garmin 305 that I’ve yet to order).
And this might be the most mamajama of all mamajama blenders. I want ice to crush itself when it gazes upon it’s gleaming blades. That would rock my world.
Ahhh Dr. Martens how I love you. And I love these boots. Slip on, which is always nice. Just fabulous.
The Honda Element
More specifically the Honda Element with a few of the “dog friendly” options. Especially the ramp. Neither Ginger nor Bronco has trouble jumping but they wreak havoc on the finish of the bumper. And the kennel is just a nice feature. I love this car. Ability to get seats completely out of the way? Would be so very helpful. We never use the passenger seats and they just collect dog hair.
I think that pretty much does it. Oh and world peace.
Wow it’s been forever since I’ve done one of these it seems.
I’ve got the living room painted but not trimmed- no picture there. I’d take one right now but it looks as if world war III just concluded in there.
I did get the hallway done, don’t know if I posted that picture already but here it is again, in case I didn’t.
I love that picture because my floors look amazing in it! Trust me, in real life- they look nothing like that. At all.
But that is all old news.
We’ve got good things happening round these parts!
Bookshelves!!!!!!
They are (hopefully obviously) not done but the carpenters are coming back on Friday to put up the molding and then there is going to be a desk in between them.
I’m very excited about it.
Not only that but we are also putting in two benches in the breakfast room (with storage- woot!) which will also be done on Friday.
Now I just need to find a new kitchen table and I’ll be set.
Oh and my mother.
My mother.
She has issues of the furniture nature. I put the bookshelf picture up on flickr and within the hour she had already commented that “wow, this would look even better with real grown up furniture in front of it.”
And just because of that statement- I’m now looking for a futon.
Ahhh, one week down hopefully only two more on crutches. Please dear heavenly father let there only be two more weeks on crutches.
So what have I done to entertain myself you might ask?
This:
– I’ve done a “which deodorant works better when lying in bed doing nothing?” comparison test. Which I think the Lady Mitchum came out ahead on. In fairness though- it’s competitor was the Secret Clinical waterproof and while I’m sure it is a great product, I’m not doing many water sports nor sweating all the much while lying here, so I do feel that it’s selling point is being under-appreciated.
– Kept the new puppy cam live feed up so I can watch as the two dogs go ape shit when the puppies start crying.
– Played a lot of pogo games. Won four badges so far this week. Working on the “casino album”. Awesome.
– Read. A lot. I think I’ve finished three books so far.
– Read even more. My google reader is getting a bit out of control. But I’ve got the time so why not.
– Research sports bras. I don’t know why but I spent a good amount of time looking at sports bras the other day.
– Tried (successfully so far) to convince myself that there is absolutely no need to buy a night vision monocular from woot! No need whatsoever.
Because I’m unable to work out- and have been unable to work out for quite some time- I’ve had to be super vigilant about what I’m eating.
Let’s forget for a moment that I had pizza for dinner because the carpenters were here and our blue room furniture was in the kitchen area and still hasn’t moved and shit I just realized that the dishwasher is probably going to be arriving any moment now and MrBunny needs to clear out the kitchen so they can install it and shit the carpenters are coming back to finish the breakfast room… okay, regroup.
So- I’ve had to be vigilant about what I’m eating.
It hasn’t been too hard over all. I’ve still got a bowl of hershey’s kisses and rolos and random other chocolate that made it’s way here over the holidays sitting on the kitchen counter and has barely been touched. It’s mainly my “sweet tooth attack” allowance of a piece or two.
Thing is- sometimes I find myself getting stuck in a rut and look for things to entertain me meal wise in the morning. I get tired of eggs and other breakfast stuff (because I’d love nothing more than to bust out the grits!) and I love my green monster (milk, spinach, bsn dessert protein chocolate coconut candy bar flavor- yum) but even that doesn’t fit the bill all the time.
So I try shaking things up. I was searching for such a thing this morning when I looked in the freezer and saw this.
This defines impulse buy. It was one of those things that I came across while farting around on the internet and thought- you know, I like berry flavored stuff, why don’t I try that?
I should have just moved on.
But I didn’t. I bought it and I tried it.
And it wasn’t bad. I forget what I added it to but I remember thinking, well that’s different, and then putting it back into the freezer until this morning.
I’m crutching along in the kitchen so I can’t really do too much in depth so I decided to go the easy route and just try the Amazing Grass again with just water.
Oh. My. God.
What a horrible horrible idea.
Imagine if you were to take a bit of sand and mix it with water and then try and drink it. And because sand doesn’t dissolve, every single one of those grains of sand hits the back of your throat.
That is exactly what this was like.
And for some reason when I panic over stupid shit like this, I just freeze. Ask MrBunny about the time that I took a swig from a Dr. Pepper can that had a cigarette butt in it… while driving. Let’s just say we almost died that night.
I thought I was dying this morning. My body was in flux- didn’t know if it should swallow or upchuck.
Now that I think about it, I don’t think I did either. I just spit out what was in my mouth and started doing the “dear god I just drank the most vile shit ever and now I really need to get that taste out of my mouth” dance as well as I could on crutches.
It wasn’t a pretty sight.
Part of me really really really wants to open up the trashcan and pitch that tub of nastiness in, never to be seen or heard from again. But the other part of me is like- what the fuck! You spent god only knows how much on that crap you better find a way to make it palatable!
So….
I don’t suppose anyone has an idea on how to make berry flavored “super food” palatable besides sneaking it into a 1 to 100 ratio smoothie or something?
All I know is until I hear of a way to avoid the sand in my gullet sensation again- the Amazing Grass stays in the freezer.
In the back.
Behind the salmon fillet that’s been there for months.
There are many things MrBunny is good at- picking up, finding a place for crap (which is good because I so am not), cleaning out cars, pitching out things that have been sitting around for years (except that copy of Shogun he’s been carting around for god only knows how long when there is no chance in hell he is ever going to read it), stuff like that.
Then there are things he is not good at- folding clothes, putting away dishes back to where they came from, and going to the grocery store.
Oh the grocery store. Unlike the folding of the clothes and the putting the dishes back where they came from, I believe this is one of those “if I do it badly she won’t ask me to do it again” type of things. And I’m perfectly okay with it. Because I love going to the grocery store. Love it. And I absolutely hate it when he goes with me. I like taking my time going up and down each aisle. I enjoy checking out each type of apple available. I hate when he comes walking down the aisle with his arms full of crap that we don’t need. The grocery store is my happy place. (ask my parent’s about the night that we went to a movie and then they took me to see the new Schnucks- I am a sucker for a new pretty grocery store)
Enter my problem.
I can’t drive. I can’t walk. I hate those scooters (I’m a hazard enough on my own two feet, it never ends well if I motorize the process).
MrBunny has to go to the store by himself.
And he has to come back with what I ask for.
I’ve been working on the most detailed grocery list in the history of humankind for seemingly hours now.
Everything is broken down into aisles and whether or not it is store brand or name brand (because I think we all know that there are certain things you just don’t go store brand for… toilet paper).
It really is a sight to behold. I have taken every single neurosis I have and channeled it into this grocery list.
It belongs in a museum.
It belongs in the Smithsonian. It is that epic.
95% of it won’t be read.
At least I’m honest with myself.
Oh well, I suppose two weeks of store brand toilet paper won’t kill me.
So I’ve been stuck in the house, immobile, for four days now.
I am at MrBunny’s complete mercy.
Unfortunately, MrBunny has been busy studying his ass off this week. Extremely poor timing on my part.
The groceries are getting low. The house in general is getting worse. It is only up to sanitation codes because he’s picked up here and there in as he runs through the house off to work or on study breaks and I pick up what little I can with the two sticks of pain.
What this has brought to light however is how very unfriendly our town is to people who can’t get around.
Once I’m off crutches I want to go take the Chair Yoga class at the Y.
Yes the chair yoga class. It will be me and the over 80 crowd. Should be interesting.
Problem is- I don’t have a way to get there. It is in the middle of the day so MrBunny really can’t come home and take me, then bring me back and get back to work all in a lunch break (that and it’s 10 in the morning, little early for lunch). And I mapped out the bus line and it would take me almost half an hour to get there on the bus. Half and hour!
The Y is exactly 1.2 miles from my house. But the bus does not go down the street that connects my house and the Y so I literally have to go around my elbow to get to my thumb. Ridiculous.
And I asked about using the paratransit and was told in no uncertain terms that I was not disabled enough to use it. I was unaware that I was trying to portray myself as disabled nor was I in a competition but whatever.
But that is not the worst injustice.
That came when I called Blockbuster.
I’m bored. And at times I try to entertain myself when I’m bored.
So I called up to Blockbuster. I initially called to see if they had a game that I want to play. That way I could tell MrBunny what game to get instead of leaving it as a surprise (which might not be a pleasant surprise).
And because I’m bored and seeking entertainment, I asked the lady if she could deliver the movies and game to my house. I even told her that I’d pay for her gas. It isn’t that far- just down the street.
You would think with such a ridiculous question the lady would have laughed. But no, she told me very sternly that it is not their policy to deliver to homes and that they have an online subscription for that (which I have and love- usually, when I’m able to drive down the street that is).
So much for my entertainment. Not only will you not deliver my movies and game but you don’t even play along. Thanks for nothing bitchy Blockbuster lady.
In conclusion- my town needs a grocery delivery (I’m out of turkey and I eat turkey at almost every meal. I love turkey. I’m resorting to meatballs with my spaghetti squash and this makes me sad), a more direct bus from my house to the Y, and a Blockbuster that will deliver.
Or maybe one of those concierge services that will run errands for you. That would kick ass.
Anyways, I’m sort of proud of my injury. Now being a klutz with spacial issues this is not my first injury by any means. I’ve had the sprained ankles and the broken fingers and twelve stitches in my arm and the hamburger meat for a leg… but this might be the first one I’m proud of.
Why?
Because it’s an “overuse” injury. Meaning I got it because I used it. More than likely pushing myself to far and fast over the hills (however slight they may be) in my neighborhood while running/walking/jogging/trotting.
Guess how you can avoid an “overuse” injury? Sitting on the couch. That’s right bitches, I’m hurt because I got my ass off the couch.
And I’m proud of that.
It still hurts like hell but it is a good hurt. That’s a lie, it’s not a good hurt- more like a satisfying I did the right thing up until I kept going instead of listening to my foot when it first said stop and I said fuck you foot I’m going to keep going and bam that foot sure showed me but it’s all good because at least I was trying I guess kind of hurt.
Still have the tendonitis- not only in the peroneal tendon but the achilles as well. Fabulous.
But it get’s better! Remember the “damage” from the fabulous phone call on Friday?
Well it ended up being a tear in the peroneal tendon. Luckily it isn’ t a “bad” tear and it isn’t a full tear/rupture so all in all it was a pretty good day for me.
Unfortunately I brought MrBunny to the dr. with me (had a pretty strong feeling that I wasn’t going to be driving myself home from this one) and he and the dr. found themselves to be kindred spirits when it came to my situation. They formed a united front and proceeded to read me the riot act. It was absolutely ridiculous. Then I call my mom when I get to the car and she’s on their side! I mean come on. Her actual statement was “Why don’t you try something new- comply.” I’ll say this- if my husband and mother were to join forces more often I’d be frightened. They are very difficult to stare down.
So three months after I first noticed my foot starting to hurt I hobbled out of the dr.’s office today with not only a boot… but crutches as well!
Oh joy!
You better believe I’m rocking the zebra print.
Okay, I’m not.
But if I was so inclined to spend money to pimp out my crutches I’d probably go this route:
So that I’d have a constant reminder (outside of the annoying one known as MrBunny- it’s only been seven hours and already he’s maxed out his mother hen moments for the decade) that if I don’t stay off my foot and I don’t take the time now to get it healed then I will more than likely be shooting myself in the foot (pun totally intended) when it comes to enlisting. Because if I end up needed surgery it is going to be a long road back to 100% and my enlistment hopes will take a huge step back.
And when I think about it that way I’m able to make myself use the crutches. And that is not an easy task!
By the way- if you were so inclined to purchase decorations for the hobbled person in your life you can find them at LemonAid Crutches. Make sure you read the “about us” section, you’ll want to purchase a set whether you need it or not!
Hopefully this will be the beginning of the end of my whining posts about my foot. Probably not.
Here is a brief tutorial on how not to handle an interaction with a patient.
First: when a test is delivered to your office on a Monday afternoon, one would think it is well within reason that you would contact that patient (like you said you would) before Friday afternoon. It is rather unacceptable that the patient had to end up calling you to find out what was going on.
Secondly: When you talk to the patient and know that you do not have an appointment available until the following week at which time the patient will be discussing the test results with the dr. don’t leave the conversation with “your MRI showed tendonitis and damage”… click.
UNACCEPTABLE!
What exactly does “damage” mean? What are the repercussions? How soon can I get a second opinion? Why does my dog keep crawling under the bed?
No really… why does my dog keep crawling under the bed?
I know you’ve all been worried about the squirrel terrorists coming and attacking me in my home- but don’t be.
Because Ginger is on the job.
No joke every time I look outside (which I feel the need to do often given their escaping abilities) she is sitting at the base of some tree looking up just waiting for a squirrel to make it’s move.
Silly squirrels- she will kill you. I’ve seen it. Unfortunately.
Dog sex is okay (which is good because no joke I’ve gotten at least 50 hits from that search in the last few days- what the fuck is wrong with people?) and I’ll give a pass to ttc underwear… but Tim Tebow sexy?
Absolutely not.
Do not grace my little part of the internet with your presence again.
Remember back in the day when RISTLTMB first started? About how it was all about dog sex? People worried about being pregnant by their dog? *and all the time I spent trying to bleach that mental image from my brain is now wasted
How every day there was at least two or three random ass searches about dogs and sex and other freakish things?
Well now it is happening with underwear.
Much like the dog sex it’s starting off pretty innocuous. But I fear this will blow up in my face much like the previous experience.
The newest one is:
ttc day underwear
Ummmm.
Is there something I don’t know? Did I skip over an important part in the ttc manual? Sleep through that class in sex ed?
Did I miss the sale on “get pregnant now” undies? I wouldn’t be surprised, but, well, I am.
I should have known something like this would happen.
I think I might have made it into the hallowed realms of googles “Safe Search Off”.
Today’s RISTLTMB (which is Random Internet Search That Led To My Blog for those new to these parts) is :
wife: without underwear
Not entirely sure why they needed the colon but it amuses me. Makes it look like some PBS documentary or something. A documentary that surely involves the neighbor or pizza boy.
On a completely unrelated note- my mom had no idea who Ron Jeremy was. I can understand not having personally experienced his body of work but to never have heard of him at all? Seemed a little odd. And then it got really awkward when she went to google him- I think everyone else at the table grabbed for her phone before she could. I can’t even imagine how that would have played out.
And a bonus RISTLTMB!
Ginger ttc pregnant
Should I break it to her that it’s a lost cause? Her ute departed years ago.
I don’t know if I posted an update to my foot drama on Wednesday and I’m too lazy to go look so a recap.
Went to the dr.
He said “oh it’s been three weeks and it hasn’t gotten better? You need an MRI.”
:sidenote- why couldn’t he have sent me for the MRI before the new year/new deductible?:
I said “okay”
I left.
Riveting appointment. We did discuss worst case scenarios and where do we from here but that was pretty much the gist of it.
So last night I look over the form for the diagnostic place and realize that I need to wear clothes that have no metal in/on them. This was a much more difficult task then I realized. Bra- underwire. First sportsbra- metal clasp. Second sportsbra- good to go (for all those big chested chicks out there- check out Moving Comfort. Best sports bras I’ve found, bar none).
Pants- I’ve got numerous pairs of those gym pants with the zippers on the side. It wasn’t until like an hour later that I realized the zippers were metal. Cluebird. So then I figured I’d wear shorts. But I didn’t want to wear pants over them. And what if it was cold in the room and I’m lying there in a pair of shorts freezing my ass off? And then I realized that every pair of shorts I have has metal eyelets for the string. What the hell. So then I found my yoga (they really should be called, warm and comfortable lounge around the house pants because these pants have never seen a yoga) pants. Score. No metal. Well then there was the underwear issue. I didn’t want to go without underwear because what if I got there and they wanted me to wear a gown and then holy shit I have no underwear on and I’m walking around the office with my ass hanging out. But the pants are really designed to be worn without underwear so if I go anywhere afterwards I’m going to look like an idiot with my really obvious underwear lines.
Have I mentioned that I tend to overthink things at times?
In the end I went with the yoga pants with the underwear. I figured the underwear lines were a much lesser sin than the bare ass.
Sooooo….
I get there this morning and pay my deductible and get settled on the machine and we get that done with.
About an hour later it’s over (if that machine was just a little bit quieter I could have totally taken a nap. It was warm and the noise is very soothing, in a really loud sort of way).
I ask the dude if he can see anything.
He tells me that he can’t read the images but he’s seen enough to know that “well it’s not normal.”
No seriously, that’s what he said.
I will rest easy tonight for sure!
As I’m driving to the post office- to subject all those people to my underwear lines- I call my mom and tell her about my not normal foot. And she can’t resist the opportunity… “Well that goes along with the rest of you.”
Ahhh such loving words.
And this concludes another episode of “Mountain out of a Molehill: The story of IronBunny’s foot injury”
9/22- just starting out; 124 to lose
9/29- lost 6 pounds; 118 left to go
10/6-lost 4 pounds; 114 left to go
totally forgot this was over here:
12/4- lost 25 pounds; 99 left to go
We really need a recliner. I could maybe possibly sleep if I was sitting in one. Propped up on pillows just isn't cutting it. 2 hours ago
What happens when you combine pain, narcotics, and insomnia? Random Veggie Tales songs. "We used to be so happy.We used to laugh and play!" 2 hours ago
@Psych_Lassie close only counts with hand grenades and nuclear warheads... Not pie. My condolences. 3 hours ago
