Monitored Cycle

My monitored cycle starts now! Yay! I'm so excited to finally get this show on the road! I went in today for my day 3 ultrasound (yes, I officially started my period. After 52 days and medication). So today's appointment was to test to see if I had cysts on my ovaries. As it was explained to me, the presence of large cysts would have indicated a higher than desired level of estrogen. The tech said that anything over 15mm would be too large and they would not start me on Clomid. I didn't ask what would happen then, because I honestly didn't think that would apply to me. Well, I was pretty close... I have a cyst on my right ovary that measured 10 mm. Fortunately, I sailed through. My uterus was also in good shape - thin. I also got blood drawn to check some other hormone (???) and left $1,000 poorer, without a vial of blood, with 'jelly' leftover from the ultrasound (did I mention it was vaginal? Oh yeah. On my period and got to have a vaginal ultrasound. Good thing my period is light this month. Those poor techs... I mean really. Ew.), a lovely prescription for 100mg of Clomid and an appointment for next week. YAY! Moving forward! I also got instructions about which kind of OPK tests to buy (hint: not the kind I currently own). Overall a pretty good visit, and I still beat The Tool to work. I stupidly left a voice mail for him because I thought I wouldn't beat him. Dang! So now he knows that I was late. And *chuckle* he doesn't know about all the baby stuff, but thinks I'm really sick or something to have all these doctor's appointments where they keep drawing blood. Heehee. I've assured him that was not the case, but he still seems worried. I guess that's nice of him. Whatever.

This weekend is the draft, for which I am now participating, instead of watching. I haven't really prepared my list. I'm too busy preparing to have Mike come and stay with us! I'm going to the grocery store and trying to pre-make stuff for breakfast and lunch during the draft. I was also invited to a birthday party Saturday night which should be lots of fun, but doing that would interrupt hanging out with Mike and talking about the draft. Ugh... I don't know what to do. I've committed to both, but don't feel like doing the birthday thing. I guess we'll see what I feel like and bail on someone. Or maybe just go to the birthday thing later than I anticipated. Fun weekend ahead! I just hope the Clomid doesn't make me into too much of a crazy hormonal bitch. :)

Assholios

Defined by: Making an appointment to see someone's house. And not showing up. No phone call. Nothing.

We went out last night and bought flowers. Fucking flowers. We bought room smell-good thingies. We spent about $40 on this shit for assholes who didn't even bother to show up. Not to mention the cleaning. Oh, yes. The cleaning. The perfect-have-to-have-lines-from-the-vacuum-cleaner cleaning. And our hopes were so high. We were really, super excited at the prospect of people actually coming to see the house. Our first showings. And they were supposed to be back to back.

Fuckers.

Karma is a bitch.

Recovering

St. Patrick's Day! Yay! The third anniversary of our engagement! And damn am I tired. And sore. What is it about drinking that makes your body hurt so bad?

Yesterday we went to Sherlock's, the normal St. Patrick's Day hangout, and drank like fishies. I got my face painted, which I thought was the coolest fucking thing ever last night. Beware the horribly unflattering pictures.

Feel free to laugh.*yawn* We got home around midnight maybe after cabbing it home and passed the fuck out. Didn't barf, which was good, but had a horrid headache and am still hungover. Got to work before ten, which was good. Why did St. Patrick's Day have to be on a Monday??? Jesus Fucking Christ. So now - am struggling to stay awake in my chair.

Also? It sucks because everyone has Good Friday off, but not us. The Tool is out of town (yay!!!) and our boss will be working from home that day, so it'll be pretty empty around here. I wish I could take a day off. But, I don't want to use a day now. It's getting close to where if I don't get pregnant pretty soon, I'll be looking at 2009 for a due date, which means I can use up all my vacation then and carry five days over from this year. It would actually be pretty nice, but then my vacation schedule for next year will be screwed because I'll have used it all up early. Oh, well. I'm not thinking we'd be taking a lot of vacations with a newborn to one year old. Except to George's house in San Antonio.

I've also decided that I'm going to quit smoking. I've gotten to the point where I only smoke when I drink, (which is really good!) but I still need to stop completely. It will only suck when I'm drinking. I used to think that I could do it up the point of pregnancy, because I'm not going to be drinking, so I would naturally not smoke. But that's pretty stupid. I need to just not do it at all. So I figured St. Patrick's Day would be the perfect ending to that horrible vice. And I did it right - I smoked so much the thought of the smell of cigarettes makes me queasy. And they really do stink and taste like shit. Time to completely give them up. Just thinking that I smoked so much is making me sick.

Just... Whatever

The week, oh it has been a-shitty. But the house is clean. Unfortunately, no one is interested in it. Whatever. We haven't had it listed one full week yet, and already I'm in a sour mood about the whole thing. I'm sure the fact that I will be starting my period anytime soon (thanks to the wonderful medicine that is Provera! Can we say yay! for medically induced menses?) doesn't have anything to do with my attitude. Or the upset stomach, perpetual feeling of gas (and the non-passing of the gas, because, yo - I'm at work.), bloating and overall feeling of crappiness have nothing to do with it. Marc has already let me know that 'I am to remain optimistic because otherwise his pessimism will take over!' I am to "KNOW MY ROLE". I love the saying 'Know your role' - it cracks me up. Even more so when I add bitch after it. 'Know your role, bitch'. So degrading to whomever it is spoken to.

And the job. The fucking Tool I work for makes me want to slit my wrists. Today. Today! for instance. I had to write pretty much the entire two page newsletter yesterday (which, by the way, I am not the "writer". He is. We have one on contract. So, me writing the newsletter? I kinda wonder if that's the best idea. But as I constantly feel here, my opinion is not valued, and it doesn't matter what I say. Tool fucker rules. If only The Tool would tell me what he wants.) Was at work until 6:45. After my boss had left. (He works whenever he feels like it - 9-6 mostly, and I know he works overtime a lot... its just hard because he makes me feel like I can't do the same thing (make my own hours). Like when I leave before five because I got to work before 8? I feel guilty. And he makes it sound like he's keeping count of every go-home-"early" which makes me think he doesn't think I'm a team player willing to sacrifice - which I am! ERGHH.

hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate


does not even begin to describe.) Got to work this morning, before him. And come to find out? The article I wrote based off of a power point presentation he gave me, he has decided to re-write. How about some direction before I waste my time? Fucking Tool. And then changed the layout of something I did because he missed it. Of course, this is the same guy who makes me "meet" with him, for long, very boring periods of time because he doesn't feel caught up on what I'm doing and then proceeds to take and make phone calls throughout the entire"meeting" and make notes of previous meetings while I'm talking. Seriously. FUCKING TOOL. I hate. And it doesn't make it better that he was put between me and my old boss (ie, the person who hired me, who I knew from before this) to be my manager so he could be a manager. The Tool had to have someone to manage. I'm that poor slop. And he sucks at it. And now, my "friend" boss? She doesn't talk to me. At all. In a three person department, anything she has for me she tells him. And sometimes he forgets to tell me. But I don't know about it because I don't hear it from her. I feel like she manages me through him, because that's the "proper chain of command". FUCK. And I feel left out of things! They have meetings, without me, and then I have to hear it from him. What The FUCK? Seriously. This is how it goes. The aforementioned newsletter, for instance? I didn't find out it was being changed from a weekly to a monthly until a day after she told him. The Tool told me in a one sentence email. Now, I spend a good deal of time working on this and actually like doing it. Oh well! I was obviously not important enough to be told about it in full detail or anything.
And now, I pretty much hate the job I loved so much. And I can't exactly go looking for another job yet; I've been here less than a year. (Well, about a year). So I'll come across looking bad on my resume and to prospective employers. GREAT... And I pretty much have no love for my friend/boss. Because she allows and even feeds into this environment. So what do I do? I feel so stuck in misery. Absolute misery. If I could afford to quit, I so would.
So now I'm the bitter, complainy bitchy person. I need to get pregnant, play this thing out and then find another job. Dear god, I hope it happens fast.

Da Flippity Floppity Floop

Please excuse the above title as I was watching South Park this weekend and I now know how to say house, courtesy of Chef.



Mr. Garrison: Chef, what did you do when white people stole your culture?
Chef: Oh. Well, we black people just always tried to stay out in front of them.
Mr. Slave: [straightens up] How did you do that?
Chef: Well, like with our slang. Black people always used to say, "I'm in the house" instead of "I'm here." But then white people all started to say "in the house" so we switched it to "in the hizzouse." Hizzouse became hizzizzouse, and then white folk started saying that, and we had to change it to hizzie, then "in the hizzle" which we had to change to "hizzle fo shizzle," and now, because white people say "hizzle fo shizzle," we have to say "flippity floppity floop."


Ah... love me some South Park.



So, this weekend, what a crazy weekend it was. Movers! They came (15 minutes late, with no pre-phone call, but whatever...). They Moved! We paid them! We had so much stuff. we were originally going to share the 10x15 space my SIL and her boyfriend have, but after the truck was loaded and we saw how much there actually was, we realized that we would have to get our own space. So, we got a 10x10. And filled it up. (And, I have to note, that I totally called it - I knew there was no way we were going to get all of our shit into their storage space.) I wish I had a picture, because it was a sight to behold. And that is where all was forgiven with the late, somewhat laid back, very quiet (read: not personable, barely friendly) movers. They sure know how to pack a space.



As somewhat of a side note, we used a company called Student Movers. STUDENT Movers. I expected to have a couple of nice, college aged men move our shit. We got one younger looking dude and one old guy. He was like 60 or something. Seriously. I felt bad about all the heavy boxes of books I have and I felt extremely lazy watching an old guy move our shit.



So we got in the storage unit and back home where we made it as pretty as we possibly could. Amy took pictures and we have a MLS number and our house is listed, and our pictures are up and it all looks fabulous! So, SO impressed at how quickly this has all come about. Amy did a fabulous job getting the house listed and with the picture taking and whatnot. If anyone is looking for a townhouse, we've got one for sale!


This morning it was pretty easy to leave the house as it was, all perfect and show ready, after all the picture taking, but it will definitely be a test of our determination and discipline to keep the house looking show ready. This weekend was the first time I actually felt like, ok - we're really doing this! Marc said he's had that feeling for a while now. It felt much more real to me with half our furniture gone (although by looking at the pictures, it doesn't look super empty). So bring on the buyers!!

As a note about the other thing (the baby making thing) and also as an overshare: I have not started my period yet. This is cycle day 37 for me (thirty-seven). I POAS yesterday and it was negative. I could have called in for a prescription then, but with everything going on, I figured it wouldn't hurt to wait another day.

Also, day light savings? You are a mother-fucking bitch. I hate thee so.

hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate

You are the corporate conspiracy driven by electric/power companies to make us pay more (I know it only comes out to 1-3% more energy usage, but to a large company, much less industry, it's a lot of $$). You steal an hour of my precious time and make my sleep schedule all wonky for a week or so. Damn you. We do not need sunlight at 9pm! Reee-dick-u-lous-ness. You have most people fooled. Not me. I say we need to get rid of Daylight Savings. I will vote for whomever* runs on that platform! Begone, the antiquated practice of screwing people!

*not Jeb Bush or anyone related to the Bushes or any Bush fans (hereby known as Bushies)

Bizzzzzyyy

So busy. Skipped breakfast. Had a cupcake thingie for lunch and a Diet Coke (hey - I wasn't fat in jr high when all I ate for lunch was a Snickers or Reese's Peanut Butter Cup and a Coke - at least now I'm onto Diet Coke; I'm all growns up!) The cupcakes were 200 calories each, so lunch was 400 calories... not too bad, considering. And it was extremely appreciated. I'd been eyeing those cupcakes in the vending machine for weeks! Ok - gotta go work now before I get sidetracked and spend too much time writing...

Ready to get going

I'm ready.

Really.

Ready.

For all this to start happening.

It seems like everything is on the cusp of actually starting. I've been feeling crampy and think that maybe, just maybe, I'll be starting my period soon. And then, we can get the whole getting-knocked-up thing going. I'm so ready for that to start. Although I am slightly worried about the positive OPK test on my cycle day 24 and 26. Because, what if I really did ovulate all on my own then? What if I could be pregnant now? (Wishful thinking, I know, because I know there is a very slight chance of me ovulating on my own actually happening, but it's possible.) And that my period wouldn't naturally start until a week or so from now? But that I'm supposed to start taking Provera Saturday? And you aren't supposed to take that stuff if you are pregnant. So, there's a little concern there. And apparently a lot of questions, not only in my head, but apparently? Here too. Me loves the punctuation!?:;"',.

And the house stuff? Am so ready for that. So, SO ready for all that to begin. Movers are coming this weekend. ( I have to repeat that to myself like a mantra) I don't want to drag my feet on this anymore (not that *ahem* I've been the one whose feet are scuffed up from all the dragging, but we aren't naming names...) I'm just so ready for this stuff to start! Let's get the house listed so get going! Let's find a buyer! Let's buy a house! I've already found several cute ones. Let's move! Wait, I have an even better idea! Let's get pregnant and move!!! Can you say decorating a nursery in a new house? I promise to to bitch too much...

A friend of ours (who, I'm not at liberty to say) is pregnant. I'm super excited for her. A little bittersweet about it (I mean, she just was saying that she was going to try. And it only took like, 3 months. If that. How come its so easy for some people?) but really happy for her.

I think I got punched in the ovaries when I was little and that's what broke them. You'd think they would have healed by now.