ammogirl

Well. I am very pleasantly surprised to discover that everyone who watched Lost last night also got to hear the Most Fabulous Song in the universe,  Xanadu. Were you not immediately uplifted? Did you not find yourself toe-tapping? Did I not tell you so?

I applaud your forward thinking, Lost writers.

That is all.

Tschuss!!

Worst day ever. Ugh.

It started off with a 7:30 am doctor appointment, which I’ll get to later. Actually, the doctor appointment wasn’t that bad, except for the fact that it lasted just long enough to ensure there would be no parking available when I arrived at work. I ended up 1/4 mile away, and it was rainy and cold, and even that wasn’t all that bad.

But then I got to work and as I was changing out of my PT gear into my regular uniform, I realized I had forgotten some integral items. Like…socks and t-shirt. And even THAT wasn’t all that bad, because I figured I could just eat my breakfast, and by the time I was done Clothing Sales would be open, and I could just run over and buy replacement socks and shirt. However, I had also forgotten my breakfast, and that’s when it all became not a happy time, because I’m not the type of person who can miss a meal, and at this time of the morning (9:05) I had not only missed breakfast, but my mid-morning snack as well. I got all crankypants with everyone, because holy crap, they acted like it was the end of the world that I was in my PT uniform, which…I really have no words to convey how irritated that made me. It’s not like I did it on purpose, my god, and besides, what choice did I have anyway? I didn’t have my shirt or socks, and there was absolutely no way I could magically produce them.

I finally just said, you know, I haven’t eaten for one million hours and my stomach is devouring itself and working it’s way up my esophagus on it’s way to my brain so right now unless you are a plate of bacon and eggs or possibly french toast, please go. And then I did a little work, and amazingly enough, answering emails while not in my duty uniform was strikingly similar to answering emails while in my duty uniform.

Finally it was time to go to clothing sales, and I bought my stuff and then headed to the troop store where I literally stood in the aisle and gazed longingly at the Otis Spunkmeyer muffins before I hunted down the most healthy thing I could find: whole wheat bread and natural peanut butter. And then I headed back to work, got dressed, andd….

…yes, indeed. Just now, while retelling this incredibly boring story of how I’ve lost my damn mind today, the doorbell rang and when I answered it, the Polizei were on my doorstep just wanting to let me know my freaking hatch…thing on my car was all the way open. Which, of course it was. Do you know why it was open? Because when I was unloading my tennis stuff from the back, I looked to my right and there was a fairly largish spider one foot away from me on the wall, and in my rush to get away from it I forgot to, you know, secure my automobile.

And then, because it couldn’t get any worse for me, when he asked me to check to make sure nothing had been stolen, I felt the need to babble out the entire story about the spider. To the Polizei.

Okay. Anyway, I’m done telling the other story, it was boring. Seriously. I was about to tell you in a lot of words that I had eaten a pb sandwich–not exciting or funny. In any way.

I wanted to tell you what the doctor said about my back, though! She came in, sat down, placed her chin in her hands (and I thought, oh, well–THIS can’t be good) and said, “You know, there comes a time when you have to realize you’re just going to have to live with the pain. This thing you have with your sacroiliac fusing with your spine–there’s really nothing we can do but manage the pain.” I was like, okay, seriously, that’s what I’ve been saying, but every time I come in here, you send me to someone else who says they can fix me and she was like, Right, I have to try, so anyway, here, take these printouts of your diagnosis and google ’sacralization of the L5 and spine’. And we all know you don’t have to tell ME twice to google a medical ailment, but don’t you think that’s…sort of weird? Anyway.

So on Monday I have to make an appointment for steroid shots but from what I was googling, steroid shots most likely wouldn’t help something like this. I don’t know. I guess I’ll see how it goes.

Tschuss!!

So, to get it out of the way: I love David Archuleta and want to put him in my pocket, and I hope he goes on and on and on, but my favorite performance of the night was Jason Castro, dreads and all. I loved his take on that song so much I…totally fell for Fox and Apple’s marketing schemes and pre-ordered it on iTunes. I KNOW!

Can I admit here that I’m secretly addicted to iTunes? Yeah. And it’s funny because I handle the money stuff in our house and I’ll be all “$5 for a sandwich at the commissary? UNAUTHORIZED!” or “Gas in the mini-van AGAIN? UNAUTHORIZED!” and at the same time I’ll be buying entire record labels worth of songs. One at a time, of course, so it doesn’t SEEEEEEM like it’s costing me anything–what’s a DOLLAR? I mean, come on. Oh, I don’t really do that to John, by the way. Trust me, he spends plenty of money on his toys (Xbox 360 Xbox Wii Million dollar computer with two 24″ monitors two 500 gb external hard drives I could go on and on).

And, continuing on in this train-of-thought post, I was realllllly stupid last week and mentioned I thought there was something wrong with my car because I had just filled up and I was already at 1/2 tank. So my boss went out and looked under my hood (no, I don’t know what he was looking for, yes I can change my own oil and tires [thanks dad] but I don’t because…I don’t want to) and everything seemed fine to him. He suggested fuel injector cleaner and life went on. And then two days later I realized that my gas was at 1/2 tank because not because my fuel injectors were dirty but because I had driven 200+ miles in one week.

Hmmm…maybe that story doesn’t sound quite so silly in the retell. Anyway, the thing is, when John was here, he did most of the driving, in part because I’m a distracted driver who gives him a heart attack and also his parking situation is 37 million times better than mine. So, factor in the distance from my driveway to my work being only 3 miles each way, and I could go nearly an entire month between fill-ups. Now, I have to do ALL the driving and since my last fill-up on Saturday, I’ve gone 122 miles. So.

Okay, that was a pretty boring story. But I just realized that it’s totally past my bedtime so I’m just going to throw it out there and run. You’re welcome have a good evening bye!

Tschuss!