It's Sunday....yeah, I know....pointing out the obvious. Yesterday was...well...it was crap. Stayed up all night Friday being completely pissed at the husband. For what I am not completely sure of at this point.
Then I accused him of giving me poisoned ice cream because I had been bitchy. He say's he didn't. Turns out he is probably right. It seems that my body does not like Hagaan Daaz Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream as much as I'd like it to and so I spent the better part of Friday evening and into the early hours Saturday vomiting and in extreme gutteral pain. Apparently my body staged a revolt when it read "15 Worst Desserts" and realized that it was consuming #14 on the list.
I spent a good part of the day Saturday feeling guilty for A) being mean to Jon and B) consuming more than a days worth of calories in just under 1 hour the night before with that damn ice cream that then acted as if it were an alien trying to escape from my intestines. I did manage to pull myself together long enough to go and get Hannah from her sleepover. She had a blast and this made me realize that I am most likely next up on the list to host the tweens at my house.
It is only 20 days until my little one turns the big 1-0!! I can't believe it. I came back to the house and immediately climbed back into my bed and contemplated how I could possibly get out of having a slumber party. That thought train was derailed when I began to have an immense stabbing pain in my left boob.
It wasn't the ungodly chest pain that I had been having a couple months ago that led me to be hospitalized and then diagnosed with costochondritis which left me homebound for over a month. No this was clearly just in my left breast.
When Jon came home from work I told him that I was having boob pain. The teenage boy in him shown in his eyes as I could see that he thought he could just "massage" away the pain. I instead opted for a heating pad and then an ice pack. I of course turned to my trusty WebMD because I was sure it would tell me that I was dying.
Apparently I was wrong and it turns out this kind of thing is actually common in women between the ages of 30 to 45. Really?? I swear whoever said that it was a beautiful thing to be a woman was clearly a man.
The more I tried to relax and not think about the increasing stabby pain in my boob the more it hurt. Finally I gave up and went to sleep. I woke up twice in the middle of the night thinking that my breast was on fire. That is how bad the pain was.
This morning it is still pretty bad. It only hurts REALLY bad when Penny decides to use it as a trampoline which surprisingly is ALOT. Jon has stopped eyeing it as if he has the "magical" touch that could surely make all it's ailments go away.
We are trying to head to the beach to spend some family time. Of course this means we have to wait for the teenager to come home. I'm thinking this detail alone will mean that we will be spending our day here instead of on some beach. Trying to do anything that requires waiting on Liv's schedule is like planning your day around me waking up at a decent hour. It ain't gonna happen so just stop waiting for it.
I actually woke up early and was rewarded with Mc Donald's breakfast. This made Penny very happy. I am beginning to realize that with my kids getting older I am totally gonna turn into one of those weird woman that thinks her pet is her baby. This point was driven home while we drove the 1.5 miles to the Mc Donald's and I had a pretty detailed conversation with my dog about what she would like to eat.
When we got to the drive thru I had to stiffle that laughter over the jackleg that they had running the intercom where you order. You couldn't understand the words that he was saying. Jon ordered and the guy was supposedly repeating the order back to us and we had to have him repeat it twice. You couldn't understand a word of what he said. It was ridiculous.
Then when we pulled around to pay, the guy that took our money could be understood clear as a bell. Ummmm....hello...why the hell wouldn't you let him be on the intercom?? Very sad Mc Donald's...very, very sad.
Penny of course got everyone's attention. At least no one called her a chihuahua this time. Not that she cares mind you. As long as there is a biscuit in it for her you can call her whatever breed of dog you want. She spent the short drive home shaking in anticipation of whatever treat was going to be bestowed upon her.
Hannah gave her some pancake and she got biscuit, sausage and egg from me. Jon gave her nothing...he's so selfish. After eating all I wanted to do was come and lay back in bed. I decided to come back and write for a little bit.
Outside of posting "Penny's Thoughts of the Day" I haven't been writing much. Not feeling very inspired or funny lately. That worries me a little. I am usually able to laugh my way through just about anything...but lately it seems harder than usual.
After I post this I think I will check the classifieds. Still hoping to find a job. Really needing to go back to work. It will help me feel a little less useless. September is a hard, hard month for me. It's when everything fell apart 3 years ago. Trying to motivate myself during this time period is almost impossible.
Jon just came in to say that he will be picking up Olivia in a little while so I guess that I will put off the job search until tomorrow or Tuesday and instead go and get stuff ready to get out of the house for a little while. I'm hoping that getting a little sun and spending the day with Jon and the girls will turn my mood around or at least take my mind off my stabby boob pain. It's friggin aggrivating!
Hope everyone has a fun and safe Labor Day.
~JP
No comments:
Post a Comment