cool beans

I think it was Wednesday morning that I started feeling sick. I have used an entire box of tissues, half a jar of Mentholatum, and 1400 Sudafed. It’s moving from my head to my chest now, and I am wiped out.  I want to whine about laundry and my sticky kitchen floor and having to get up with the sun every day this coming week in order to get my son to band camp. So here: WHINE.

I do this every time I start a new job. My body has to get used to all the new germs and having a new job isn’t stressful enough without feeling like utter crap. So, WHINE.

We watched Zodiac last night. It was great in a serial-killers-are-horrifying way.

Es todo.

Dopey
Email response from a friend today reveals I emailed her while under the influence of Ambien.

“WEll…it looks like its workingbut i’m medicated. The screen is lumpy!”

Last night I signed and addressed greeting cards whilst medicated. One was a “Congratulations!”; the other “With Sympathy”. Then, I licked ‘em shut and slapped on some stamps. I had to open one today to make sure I was routing them correctly. (So, now you know why your card was pried open, dear.)

Carpel Tunnel Syndrome
When I had a full-time gig a few months ago, I was very good about using my left hand to do all my mousing. I used to switch the mouse at home, too. (My husband finds it aggravating. Because it’s SOOOOOOOOOO much work to move the mouse back over to the right. Wears out the shoulder, you know.) For the last couple months, I’ve used my right hand exclusively (dirty!) and since starting this new jobby-job, my right arm is killing me.

Riveting, isn’t it?

Basically, it’s hard to mouse with the left y’all!

Headings in Bold
I like this format. I don’t have to have anything much to say before spitting it out. I used to try to make up a big story to tell you, “My right arm hurts.” Now I just need a teensy paragraph. Liberation!

Goodreads
If you read books, please do this. Because I said so. It is cool to see what other people are reading aside from Harry Potter. I have a librarything, too, but goodreads is a cleaner interface (big word! woo!) and I can use the code on my WordPress.com blog.

(The following was written by WhyMommy of Toddler Planet. The original post can be found at her site. Please head over there to comment and cheer her on as she courageously battles this beast. -cb)

We hear a lot about breast cancer these days. One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetimes, and there are millions living with it in the U.S. today alone. But did you know that there is more than one type of breast cancer?

I didn’t. I thought that breast cancer was all the same. I figured that if I did my monthly breast self-exams, and found no lump, I’d be fine.

Oops. It turns out that you don’t have to have a lump to have breast cancer. Six weeks ago, I went to my OB/GYN because my breast felt funny. It was red, hot, inflamed, and the skin looked…funny. But there was no lump, so I wasn’t worried. I should have been. After a round of antibiotics didn’t clear up the inflammation, my doctor sent me to a breast specialist and did a skin punch biopsy. That test showed that I have inflammatory breast cancer, a very aggressive cancer that can be deadly.

Inflammatory breast cancer is often misdiagnosed as mastitis because many doctors have never seen it before and consider it rare. “Rare” or not, there are over 100,000 women in the U.S. with this cancer right now; only half will survive five years. Please call your OB/GYN if you experience several of the following symptoms in your breast, or any unusual changes: redness, rapid increase in size of one breast, persistent itching of breast or nipple, thickening of breast tissue, stabbing pain, soreness, swelling under the arm, dimpling or ridging (for example, when you take your bra off, the bra marks stay – for a while), flattening or retracting of the nipple, or a texture that looks or feels like an orange (called peau d’orange). Ask if your GYN is familiar with inflammatory breast cancer, and tell her that you’re concerned and want to come in to rule it out.

There is more than one kind of breast cancer. Inflammatory breast cancer is the most aggressive form of breast cancer out there, and early detection is critical. It’s not usually detected by mammogram. It does not usually present with a lump. It may be overlooked with all of the changes that our breasts undergo during the years when we’re pregnant and/or nursing our little ones. It’s important not to miss this one.

Inflammatory breast cancer is detected by women and their doctors who notice a change in one of their breasts. If you notice a change, call your doctor today. Tell her about it. Tell her that you have a friend with this disease, and it’s trying to kill her. Now you know what I wish I had known before six weeks ago.

You don’t have to have a lump to have breast cancer.

P.S. Feel free to steal this post too. I’d be happy for anyone in the blogosphere to take it and put it on their site, no questions asked. Dress it up, dress it down, let it run around the place barefoot. I don’t care. But I want the word to get out. I don’t want another young mom — or old man — or anyone in between — to have to stare at this thing on their chest and wonder, is it mastitis? Is it a rash? Am I overreacting? This cancer moves FAST, and early detection and treatment is critical for survival.

Thank you.

I read, I shower, I go to work. Repeat.

That is all.

P.S. I am not opposed to Drew Carey hosting the Price Is Right. My husband doesn’t think it will work. I think it has possibilities.

Rock

You know who I like? People who think I rock.

Thank you to Braindead Betty for passing it on to me.

I had to do a little searching to find where this started. Clicking the graphic will take you to Roberta Ferguson’s post that kicked it off.

I’m passing this on to jen of allthepretties for taking the plunge and moving her booty over to WordPress.

Paper

Yesterday I held the new Harry Potter book in my hot little hands and guess what I did? I read the end. It’s been almost 12 hours since bookstore employees started rolling their eyes at fanatics who line up in the middle of the night to buy a stinkin’ book. So you know the end now anyway. I felt a lot more special about this last night when peeps were trying to nap so they could stay up past 11:00pm. Not special enough to write about it last night, though. We went out for pie.

Scissors

I made pancakes for the kids this morning and thought it might be nice to have some music on in the kitchen. The under-cabinet radio usually only picks up the classic rock and country stations. Classic rock makes me want to hurl lately and nobody wants a vomit pancake. The radio’s been on country all morning and guess what? They’ve played Alan Jackson twice. That’s about enough of that right there.

What does that have to do with scissors? Nothing. This does, though: I need a haircut.

I woke up at 4am when my husband’s alarm clock went off. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I made my coffee and breakfast, snuggled with my little guy for a while and got ready for work. Can anyone complain about working 8am to Noon? I won’t. At least not this week.

After lunch with my sister, I dipped the children in sunscreen (a 30-minute process when we all stay focused, which wasn’t exactly the case this afternoon) and hauled them to the water park. The first hour was rough. The water was warm and our tempers were hot. Want to adjust some attitudes? Concession stand hamburgers and corn dogs* are the secret to your success. Things were much better after the children dipped things in ketchup.

We’re home now and I am wiped. It’s 8:30. I still have to do laundry (necessary for work tomorrow), complete my grocery list and take a shower. And the fifteen other random things that manage to jump in my path between here and bed. But I am going to sleep so, so good.

Tell me, is “corn dog” really “corn dog” or should it be “corndog”?  Could there be a more ridiculous word/phrase?

Work was good, thank you.

I enjoyed the first day of my new job. Everyone was very nice and they were excited to see me. It was very good. I like the environment and felt at home right away. Because I don’t like to write about work on this site that’s all I can really say about that. But, for those of you who asked, thank you for asking. I’m glad you were thinking of me. Warm and fuzzy.

In other news.

It is flipping HOT. We have air conditioning, though, so I can’t complain too much. If my A/C wanted to make out right now, I’d totally do it. As long as we can make out inside the house.

To preschool or not to preschool?

I wasn’t planning on sending my little guy to preschool because I can teach him to write his name and use scissors and dump glue on stuff. But now I’m thinking maybe I want to send him to preschool and it’s pretty late in the game for that, you know? I looked up numbers for area preschools and looking at the possible candidates, I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t send him. It makes me feel kind of sick, actually. I feel like I’m supposed to and what if I regret not sending him? But what if I send him and it’s bad somehow?

The words make pictures in your brain!

I read Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen and you should read it, too. It was SO GOOD. I’m a slow reader but finished it today after starting it on Thursday (which is fast for me.) So, so good. Go read it.

I picked up another book by Gruen and something called The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield. It has a crazy website. Hopefully one of those can pull me in like Water for Elephants.

This is from Friday’s Feast. They said it’s “a buffet for your brain.”

Appetizer
What is your favorite fruit?

Pomegranate.
Soup
Who is someone you consider as a great role model?

Famous person: Dolly Parton. Non-famous person: My husband’s aunt.

Salad
If you were to spend one night anywhere within an hour of your home, where would you choose?

The “big room” at a local bed & breakfast. I’d spend most of my time in the giant tub, covered in mountains of bubbles.

Main Course
Name something you do too often.

Stay up late.

Dessert
Fill in the blank: I really like reality television because it is so mindless.

Distraction and disconnection

Last week derailed me mentally and physically. I just cannot catch up with myself since the holiday. I feel disconnected, unable to focus and put ducks in a row. I have to get my poop in a group.

There are some current events and news thingies I want to be in the know about, but uh, what? Look! SHINY OBJECT! I need a personal assistant who researches these things for me. Mostly so I can be pissed off about the news in an educated way.

Voices in my head

I’m nervous about Monday. Freaking out that this might not be the right thing to do. Did I enjoy my time at home enough? Could I have soaked more joy, relaxation, tequila out of it? The work itself should be totally okay. I can manage that. It’s the time and the rush and having to be organized and crap every day. If I use the crock pot will I wash it out before it gets yucky so I can use it again and avoid frozen pizzas and Kraft Dinner? Should I just buy another crock pot? What about shoes? Do I have appropriate footwear? Will I get a break? What if I get West Nile from all the skeeter bites I got last week?

These are the ridiculous things that knock around inside my skull.

Yeah, that’s what I said

My behavior today takes me out of the running for this year’s Mother of the Year award. My daughter cannot simply act on a request. She must ask, “Why?” before setting herself in motion. This is something that gets annoying when a child is three. When she’s almost ten? INFURIATING. Insert Beatrix Kiddo red alert here*.

“Please go get me a pair of scissors.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like to jab them into my eyeball.”

DUH.

Nerds who don’t have cable

My kids were watching Nightline tonight. I heard my daughter tell my son, “There’s Mom’s boyfriend. ‘Dave‘.”

I was in there faster than if she’d said, “Would you look at that, I’m on fire. What?! ‘Stop, drop and roll’? WHY?”

Asterisk

I would like to link to the Beatrix Kiddo “red alert” thing, but it is so very violent. Some of you are really nice people who might be disturbed. Basically, it means “seriously pissed off. with a lot of seriousness.”

I don’t understand haiku. Like, I think it’s supposed to be more complicated than 5-7-5, but someone once said to me, “Why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?” That’s a good question. Taking that into consideration, I present the following:

I got an offer
to which I said, “Excellent!”
The fun starts Monday.