Twenty-four years of hot flashes so far, with no sign of a let-up.
On the other hand, I no longer have at least one night a month of black depression, staying awake all night trying to think of a way to commit suicide that wouldn’t leave a mess for someone else to clean up. I knew intellectually that the feeling would pass so I never actually tried it, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. This isn’t even why I had to have the surgery, but it’s still a huge benefit to me.
Yeah but they’re not going to be on national television or People magazine anymore. Even many of their fellow right wing Christians view them with contempt. There are a lot comments on Huckabee’s Facebook page against them.
So, last night/this morning, around 2:00 AM, I am awoken by a call from my 22 year old daughter, currently staying off and on with her boyfriend. She is crying, almost in hysterics, telling me that they are going to take her to the ER because her back hurts so badly.
I try to suss out what is happening, but finally she asks me to come meet them at the ER…40 minutes away across town. My husband and I print out a copy of her insurance card (because she doesn’t have hers :rolleyes:) and drive across town.
While we are driving, she texts to find out if I’m coming by myself or of my husband is coming too. I text back that he is driving as I am too tired, and she wants to know if my husband can take the BF home, since he has to work in the morning. Really??? Like we don’t have to get up the next day??? We refuse to take him home, because she’s planning on going back to his place, not coming home with us.
Turns out she has a UTI, and the doc puts her on antibiotics, etc. and we leave to drive the 40 minutes back home. We get home around 4:00 AM. I let work know I will be in late today, and pass out into the sleep of the virtuous.
I am very glad it is nothing serious, but good grief! Why the fuck did I need to be there? Frankly, why did I even agree to go? And today, my ass is dragging, and we’re having tech issues. It’s a very grumpy day.
Our yard is a pond, the dogs are filthy, our pool is overflowing and will probably need to be drained, so far we still have power but the internet was out all day yesterday.
PHS how are you? Its not just Houston that’s flooding.
Good wishes to all of y’all experiencing nasty weather. I can’t complain about ours - a couple of nice soaking rains that are helping my new shrubs, and the little girls are having a dandy time playing in the rain right now. Summer rains without lightning are rare around here, so I’m just letting them have a messy, messy good time.
But I am gonna pit the workers comp insurance - beginning at the two year mark, they started denying everything recommended by Tony’s doctor. He’s been waiting since the end of December for a shoulder surgery he really, really needs; and now has been denied a visit to a general surgeon to find out what’s wrong with his hip/groin. Bastards.
Humid as hell, thanks for asking. 
I live in a 2nd floor apt. so my things won’t be floating away anytime soon.
It seemed like a reasonable idea to agree to night shifts- after all, I’ve done them before in this house, and it’s not been a problem.
My live-in landlord is pretty nocturnal; though he does work from home, he tends to get up at about 2pm anyway, so me sleeping in til 3 should have been fine… Except… The renovation plan that was just going to be repainting the bedrooms, and fixing the plastering in one room has now extended into a full house renovation, which will likely last for months.
Even that would only be a mild irritation; OK, so the living room’s so full of junk there’s not one chair that I can sit on, OK, so the shower I normally use may be out of order while the room’s being repainted, but he’s hired the guitarist from his band (who is out of work, in classic local guitarist fashion) to do most of the work, who is a) a compete jerk, and b) THE LOUDEST PERSON IN THE WORLD: he can’t talk, he yells, he takes breaks to play guitar, with the freaking volume turned up so high the floorboards vibrate.
Oh, and c) he’s thick as two short planks- if he’s told to leave something for another day (say painting the room my fish tank is in because the paint is toxic to fish so that’ll need moving to another room first), he’ll go “Oh, OK” (or “OH, OK!!!” ), then 30 seconds later he’ll wander in with a tin of paint and start on the woodwork, because he ‘just wants to see what it’ll look like’. When he had to tidy up some stuff on a windowsill, he just chucked it all on to the floor outside and left it there.
For the first day or so, the landlord made some attempts to get him to keep quiet, but then just started agreeing with me like it’s all beyond his control “Yeah, he’s really annoying, isn’t he,” and that’s it.
My own attempts to get him to not deliberately make unnecessary noise, by asking the idiot nicely, repeatedly reminding him that I’m trying to sleep, trying to get him to empathise, and finally just frankly yelling at him to shut up after he woke me, through earplugs, for the 4th time in as many hours just resulted in him first going “OH, OK!!!” , then going on exactly as before, then just telling me that he really doesn’t give a crap if he wakes me up, it’s not him that has to work nights, and he likes making noise.
This is, incidently, a guy that I’ve been going regular lifts to gigs for the past 6 months. Oh, and he’s in his 40s and has a kid, for all that he acts like a teenager.
I’ve liked this house until now- it’s been a bit chaotic, but good natured, and the landlord has normally been reasonable and generally fairly thoughtful, but I’m not sure how much longer I can deal with this.
Musician in his 40s – hearing loss?
Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s not aware that he’s making a lot of needless noise. I can understand the poor vocal volume control, even if I really don’t appreciate being subjected to it, but really, playing guitar with the volume turned right up in a room directly below the one someone’s sleeping in, despite being repeatedly asked to stop or at least turn it way down…?
Standing at the top of the stairs and yelling if he wants to ask something or chat, instead of just walking down, even though he’s not doing anything and is heading down in a second anyway…?
I’ve talked to him enough, his hearing really isn’t that bad, he just likes making noise.
You know what this country really needs? A giant sponge. We fly it over to places that are flooding, soak up the water, fly it over to places in a drought and wring it out.
Send it to California!
I like this concept.
Really? A graduation open house invite with 11 days notice, and a wedding invitation with 19 days notice. Is that their way of technically extending an invitation without actually expecting attendance?
You get my vote for Emperor of the World.
Why the hell did I brag that our power was still on? It went out about 2 minutes after I posted that. :smack: We do have a generator, but with the power off, the internet was off, and I read my last book on my Kindle. Yeah, we have LOTS of dead tree books, but I’ve already read them and wanted something new.
OTOH, it is rather entertaining to watch Buttercup try to find a dry place to pee in the pond. There is also the part that the 2 storage units I haven’t cleaned out are flooded, so I can just trash everything without looking at it.
Lemonade, I’m trying to make lemonade out of this.
IndyEllen, as a mother of two grown daughters, I can tell you that when they are sick or hurt and don’t know why they WANT THEIR MOMMY! Even if they are 30 or more years old. Fortunately, both of mine moved out of reasonable middle-of-the-night driving distance. 
flatlined and PHS, I’m glad to know you are coping. I’ve had you in my thoughts!
The word “shero” needs to die a painful death.
Social anxiety sucks donkey balls! I am chaperoning my son’s 3rd grade field trip, and it’s today. I went shopping for a new shirt to wear so I would have something that was reasonably fashionable while still being comfortable and casual enough to wear at the Children’s Museum all day. I made sure that it matched my tennis shoes, but not so much as to be super matchy-matchy. And I’m going to be putting on makeup - “no makeup” makeup, so I look good in case anyone takes a picture. And I sure hope that the Ginger Shithead’s mom isn’t there. I despise that woman. She’s so holier than thou it pisses me off to even hear her talk. BAH.
Why do I care so much??
More specifically (and to be crass) it’s their way of asking for a gift without having to feed you in return.
Sounds like your dog’s trying to make the lemonade for you. 
Your BelovedButthead may have an easier time letting go of his previous wife’s boxes o’ stuff if the [del]agent of destruction[/del] cause for removal is a detached, impartial force, like an act of nature, rather than a person he can get mad at.
Is it really that bad? Goodness, I ***have ***been wrapped up in my own little world lately. :eek: I’ve been vaguely aware that it’s been wetter than average the past several weeks, and that’s it. That’s not an understatement for the sake of hyperbole, I swear.
This is the very first time I’ve encountered that word. Hope it stays that way.
If it makes you feel any better, the reverse – giving no shits at all – is far, far worse. (Clinical depression.) So look on the bright side! It’s good that you care so much!
Also, thank you for not making your shirt and shoes be match-matchy, and I mean that sincerely.
But we’re all here to bitch, so I guess I have to stop with the comments, huh? OK.
I’m moving in a week. The circumstances around the move are mostly positive – I’ll be getting away from several unrelated high-stress issues, and moving in with a good friend, so I’m overall looking forward to this – but y’all have moved, so you know I’m tired and frazzled and most of my own stuff’s unavailable to me and packing tape has become a previous commodity and I have a sneaking suspicion that I have either way too many or way too few boxes.
A few months ago, I wrote about Subaru’s truly demented design for headlights in which bulb replacement is done by detaching the lining of the wheel well, lying on the ground, reaching one arm up into the bowels of the car like James Herriot delivering a calf, and blindly fumbling with connectors and clasps while balancing a delicate halogen bulb. On the way home last night, I noticed that my right headlight was out. So I get to repeat the process, but this time with my non-dominant hand. Should be a right treat.
My four year old needs glasses. His left eye is pretty bad and the opthamologist figures his brain has effectively stopped using that eye and focuses exclusively through the right eye, leaving the left to get progressively weaker. His right eye isn’t great either but about 3x better than his left.
He’s on the autism spectrum and we were really hoping that his vision test failures at school had more to do with him just not wanting to take the test or wear the equipment but, nope, he fought so much against covering his right eye because it made him near blind. Glasses aren’t such a big deal in the grand scheme of things and it’s better to catch it now and his doctor thinks his left eye will somewhat recover with a prescription that lets him use both eyes but, damn, we were hoping the kid could get a win ya know?