When I buy Girl Scout Cookies (and I always buy Girl Scout Cookies, only because it’s a good cause… shut up) I put them in my deep freeze in the basement. I suffer from the delusion that 1) freezing them and 2) making them slightly harder to access will stop me from inhaling them all within the first week.
Being the logical person that I am, I make deals with myself. If I do the dishes, I can have some shortbread. If I fold the laundry and put it away, I deserve some thin mints. And tonight I want to do nothing more than vegetate in front of the television, or perhaps just go straight to bed… but I need to pay bills. So I promised my grumpy self some samoas if I took care of the bills. I gathered everything up, sat down at the computer, and got the “Sorry! We’re cheerful! But the site’s down! Bummer! Come back soon!” message from my bank.
I think I still deserve the samoas. It’s not my fault I couldn’t pay the bills. I was gonna.
I’m fighting a migraine. My brain finally cried “UNCLE!” after yesterday, and by lunchtime today I was washing down my prescription meds with an advil chaser and had my coffee in one hand (caffeine good!) and a spring water in the other (water to counteract the caffeine!).
My wry amusement for the day was the ex (who actually took a day off of work to take Chickadee, who was required to take the day off of school while trying the new meds lest she react oddly) calling me not an hour after I’d left them. He sounded concerned and bewildered, and the words tumbled out as he told me he really thought she was having a bad reaction to the medication, her behavior was BIZARRE and OUT OF CONTROL and he wanted to call the doctor. I listened as he detailed this COMPLETELY NEW set of behaviors and tried to think of how to break it to him. I wanted to be kind. Okay; no I didn’t.
“Um, welcome to my world. I TOLD you. This is what she’s been like. This is why we’re seeking help. That’s not a medication reaction, that’s YOUR DAUGHTER. Sounds like every morning I’ve had with her for the last two weeks.” Did he feel like a jackass? I sort of hope so.
Anyway, bottom line: we saw no change with the meds, today. The doctor has us doubling the dose tomorrow, although she can go to school. So we shall see.
In the meantime, she returned to me tonight in typical evening mode: tired–and therefore emotional–and ready to melt down at the slightest provocation (real or imagined). Bolstered by the kind comments I received on yesterday’s post, I took charge with grace and aplomb: when she fell to the floor–gearing up for yet another declaration of the atrocity that is her lot in life–I ran over and sat on her. And tickled her. I pinned her to the floor and tickled her and she threw back her head and laughed and laughed the way a little kid should, and the way that she doesn’t nearly often enough. Eventually I had to stop because Monkey had climbed onto my head amidst the gigglefest and that didn’t really go well with the migraine, but it was only one deft manuever before I had one child pinned under each knee, squirming, shrieking, and begging for mercy. Now that is why I became a mother.
It really worked out better than I’d dared hope. I’d say it was a three-cookie diversion, at least.
On the other hand, I may have to impose some cookie demerits on myself. File the following under “things that seemed like a good idea at the time when I was sorta stoned on migraine medication.”
I have been submitting weekly status reports since starting my job. This week, my boss decided we need a new format; a little more structure, if you will (hey, even if you won’t!). This new format has two significant changes from the previous method. 1) It now uses lots of bullets and 2) It now has an “Other” section which came with an attached explanation of the various sorts of things that might go there (including “absences” and LOTS of other things and ending with “and anything else you think I ought to know”).
If you have met me? You should know better than to give me the opening to tell you “anything else I think you ought to know.” That’s just foolish.
Today my bulleted list of “Other” items may have included:
+ I left early Friday and Tuesday (for Chickadee’s doctors appointments).
+ Do you know anyone who might like a small girl? Cute but vexing!
+ We’ll need to discuss coming up with some replacement software for that license we didn’t renew.
+ Fred* threw dog toys at me when you weren’t looking. I’m thinking of suing.
+ This new format really flows, dontcha think?
In my defense… nevermind. I’m probably just a moron.
*Fred is not his real name. I changed his name to protect him, and also so that I wouldn’t feel compelled to tell you that the reason he pelted me with dog toys was because I may have kinda accidentally provoked him by making a very funny joke sort of at his expense. Everyone else laughed but when he said “WHO HIRED HER?” I began to suspect that he was not amused. Oops.