Goo

So today was another monitoring check up. I went in for an u/s and everything looks ok! My lining and follicles are still immature, but they're there and growing. My lining was at about 5.7 when she said it needed to be closer to 8 and all but one follicle was under 10mm. So... yay, I guess. I go back in on Monday afternoon for another checkup and a crotch full of goo.

Fantasy baseball has officially started and I'm off to a 2-1 start. Not too bad, if I do say so myself.

House Update: Well, there's really not much to say at this point. We've had no action. How freaking sad is that? I still have the faith, but at this point in time, it looks like I'll be pregnant (please!) before the house gets looked at. Ugh. I just really want to be able to decorate a nursery without trying to sell a house, too. No painting...

My sickness: So anyone who knows me knows I love to shop, but will never pay full price - for anything (except on very rare occasions; this applies to clothes, by the way). I love the feeling of getting a deal and I hate knowing that I will have spent a crap load of money on some thing someone else, a month or two from now will get cheaper. So I wait. Which is good! Until I find sales. Then my husband gets mad. Because then I spend. I try to talk myself out of things that I know I do not need (which could qualify as everything, because let's face it - I'm not exactly wearing rags). But its very hard to pass up on pants or shirts that are on sale for a really good price.

In the past, I splurged. I racked up major credit card debt. Oh, I was so, so stupid. I paid full price for everything and had credit cards to so many places... I think I had like 12 credit cards. All pretty much maxed out. But! I had a closet full of beautiful clothes. Clothes I look at and still adore. If only I could get into them. See, I've gained weight. Like fifty pounds. I gained weight and I'm lazy and I love sugar and eats lots of food and candy, thus explaining the 50 pounds (and growing!). Good thing I'm tall, or I'd look a hell of a lot worse then I currently do. The 50, by the way has gone on slowly - I would say since early college, lets say 2000 or 2001.

Nevertheless, I cannot wear my great, full price, expensive clothes. And I refuse to throw them out, because they were so expensive (to me) and I dream that one day... one day, something will happen... like I'll suddenly become thin... and then, then I'll be able to wear my beautiful clothes... and I'll be so thankful that I have these clothes...

I buy new clothes at discounted prices, knowing I could very well get much fatter and wanting to be able to throw something out without the pain of knowing it was expensive. And, I still shop, even though I'm trying to get pregnant. Funny, huh. Hopefully my new clothes won't fit for much longer. Hopefully they'll fit again...

So that is my sickness. The sickness my husband can't understand. And wow! there is no way I'm going to be able to try to tie that in with what I started this post with. So I'll end it the word goo, so I can pretend it all makes sense. goo