Earlier this week Michael came home to find vines strewn all over the front yard and me crying into my pillow. All I could get out was that I wanted some good news.
I had over 14,000 emails in my junk email folder and it refused to empty. Between this and all the pictures I had in folders on my Desktop my computer was moving at the speed of an arthritic snail. Michael went out and bought me two big thumb drives for my pictures and individually deleted over 2,000 emails to get the junk folder to empty. He’s awesome.
I’d tried to rip all the vines off the landscaping at the front of the house because someone had posted on the band parent page that the students need to practice more individually. Of course I couldn’t reach all the vines, and didn’t have the strength to actually uproot them, so John took the pruning shears and filled up a yard waste bag with what I’d ripped down. I did save my Nandina bushes and my rhododendron, but the roses may be dead 🙁
My Bariatric support group meeting was great – a friend met me there and there were a couple of two-years-out people who were happy and healthy, keeping the weight off without killing themselves or starving. But when I mentioned Nerium Firm and ended up with a handful of people wanting my cards at the end of the session I got dirty looks from the dietitian and counselor. Even though I’ve had NO sales yet from those leads I get the feeling they may ban me from mentioning it again. Or maybe I’m paranoid.
John mid-term progress report came home. If we’d had the money to let him go do any of the usual things high school Juniors do these days in the first place he’d now be grounded from doing them. How do you ground a kid when you’re poor? Not let him play with the dogs we’ll have to take to the Humane Society when our house is foreclosed on? That’s about all he’s got.
Thankfully, my OB/GYN is owned by the group of hospitals that provide my insurance, so there were no extra fees for me to go back for extra mammogram views or for two pelvic ultrasounds. It would be pretty ironic if I had bariatric surgery only to find out less than two months later I had breast and/or uterine cancer, huh?
Instead of a pound a day I’m down to losing about a pound a week. I know, I shouldn’t complain. But if my back could just take a bit of exercise I’d be able to speed this along. But, no. A conference last Saturday that involved sitting in comfy chairs (I was sprawled across three by the end), taking frequent stretch breaks, wearing my TENS unit (yes, those spots still itch like crazy) and taking extra pain pills and muscle relaxers (I had a driver) still left me miserable and bed-bound for the rest of the weekend, missing John’s nearest marching band contest. The vine-tearing took its toll as well. More perky next time, I swear.
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