I’m polite. It’s in my genes. From both sides, but it skipped my mom. I still feel guilty for laughing aloud at an inappropriate remark another student made to a teacher in high school – I swear. I don’t even remember what was said, I just remember the feeling of horror that I had been so rude as to laugh. So imagine my surprise when I heard that the son of one of my very best friends in the world is answering my husband’s calls with, “What do you want?” His mother would be appalled – as she should be. To make matters worse, this is the same person that I pulled aside at a family event and asked very politely to not say offensive things to Michael. I even told him if he felt the need to talk to feel free to call me. But he doesn’t have the balls for that. His wife carries them in her Prada bag.
I binge-watched the final season of Glee this week. SO good! I’m saving my DVDs of both seasons of Smash for my recovery post-op. Not that I expect it to be any different from my day-to-day life, but that’s my little treat to myself: cuddle up in bed with the dogs for a musical-fest!!
I had planned on spending a lot of time this week filling out disability questionnaires online, but Allsup‘s website has been down most of the week. It came up yesterday and I pulled out all the stops trying to get it all done before my 2pm phone interview today. These people are truly the only compassionate people I’ve come in contact with during my four-year-long battle for disability benefits. Apathy and ignorance abound, but compassion is hard to find. If you ever (God forbid) become disabled these are the people you need to help you.
I did accomplish one fairly impressive thing this week. I pitched a company to see if they’d like to work with me during the months following my gastric sleeve. I did a thirty-day trial, and loved their products and customer service. They replied quickly, and wanted my Media Kit. YEEAAHH, I have a Media Kit (NOT!) I put in a frantic text to Dianna, and then went to Blog Clarity. Melissa Culbertson really does know everything anyone needs to know about blogging, and she shares. So they have my Media Kit now, and since I have one I’m considering pitching another company!
This has been bothering me for a while. It wasn’t in a blog I usually follow, I don’t think. Probably I read it because they were in a link-up. But a mom of a son with some sort of special needs (can’t remember what) was having problems with her son being bullied. Been there, done that, and it sucks. Bullying is getting worse, not better, in spite of all the “zero tolerance” policies in place. Her decision was to put her son in Tae Kwan Do classes. Will kicking the bully’s ass stop him from being a bully? Sadly, no. It will get her son punished, and the bully will be very, very pleased at the reaction he was able to get. Agree or disagree?
I had samples of the vitamins and minerals I’m supposed to take postop, and I thought I’d try them this week. Unfortunately, I didn’t write down what I put in which little timed container. Whatever I took at 6am made me really nauseous. That’s a problem. The last thing I want to do after major abdominal surgery is throw up. I hate to throw up. That was one of the many reasons I decided to have a sleeve instead of a band – less throwing up. So that’s a mystery I need to solve before my huge Box O’Vitamins arrives for the month.
In the midst of my computer marathon yesterday I got a 20-minute break for hysterical fear. I thought I’d lost my mom’s dog. Winnie, her Yorkie, stays with us periodically and my big dogs cower in her wake. She also does things I know damn well she doesn’t get away with at home. She climbs onto the dining room table for a nap, she snaps at the other dogs, and she poops everywhere. I’d found a mess in the tiled dining room (I swear she can aim for the grout!), so I let everyone out into the fenced backyard and left the door cracked while the Scrubbing Bubbles and I went to work. Sam came looking for me (expecting her treat) and Boss was right behind her. But no Winnie. She didn’t come when I called. I searched the house. I ran/waddled one house in either direction (her legs are short and she’s fat) calling for her. I searched the house again. When I went to search the backyard one last time before getting in the car there she was, right in the middle of the yard. She’d just been ignoring me. All her potty breaks will be monitored from here on!
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