A couple who takes antibiotics together, stays together

This was such a miserable week at our house.  J's been sick for over a week, although it seems like much longer now.  Last week consisted of me whispering to him, "Do you have to breathe in my face?  Can't you roll over?  I love you!" as we fell asleep.  Well, wouldn't you know, he did breathe on me -- LOTS probably, because around Tuesday of this week, it hit me.  And I fell hard, too.

November of 2007 brought two things for me: love and a tonsillectomy.  That's right, at 25 I got my infected chicken nugget-sized tonsils ripped out.  A painful 3 week recovery was the last time I'd suffer due to those bastards, thank you.  And I must say, a sinus infection like the one I have now would've likely killed me pre-tonsil-ripping-out.  Yet I still sit here, with completely clogged ears and a stuffy nose, just thankful I can breathe out of one nostril today.  On Wednesday, as my nose wouldn't stop running, and as J and I went through an entire box of tissues, I was just so grateful not to have those throbbing swollen walnuts stuck to the side of my throat.  Self, I told myself, be glad you can swallow.

Thursday I woke up and realized that I was getting way worse.  A trip to the doctor and 4 frustrating trips to Walgreens later, I had my antibiotics in hand, ready to fight the infection.  My trip to the doc even inspired J to go see his.  Matching sinus infections; isn't that precious?

Yesterday after I got home from work, I opened up all the windows even though it was only 45 degrees outside and let this place air out.  I vacuumed, Swiffered, Cloroxed the remote, our phones, the coffee table.  J washed our linens.  I removed our 1,000 discarded tissues and we took out the trash.  We're going to get better, dammit.

And the best way for me to get better?  Finding out today that I've got tomorrow off work.  Yep, not that I'll be doing any Superbowl drinking, well, maybe a virgin screwdriver or two, but I plan on sleeping in.  Having breakfast with J.  Walking the dogs.  Trying to get the rest of J's birthday present together.  Trying to live my entire life in 24 hours before it starts all over again.  But hopefully this week will be different.  Hopefully I'll have my hearing back.

Adult Math

Remember back in high school, or if you were really terrible at math like I was--even in college, when you used to screech to your teacher, "But I'll never use algebra in my adult life!  I'm going to be the editor of Vogue!  I don't need math!  This is so stuuuuupid!"  Well kids, I just thought I'd write an a quick note saying that no, it wasn't true after all.  This girl used math this weekend.  I shall write it in the form of a word problem, which were always the ones that stumped me.

Stacy received her paycheck.  If she had 20 hours of overtime on this paycheck, she can figure her after-tax hourly rate, X, by subtracting her normal paycheck from this monster paycheck, and then dividing a bunch.  Once she figures X, she can multiply that by the amount of hours she anticipates to work this pay period.  We'll call that amount Y.  Y is precisely what will keep her going as she heads to work today, having worked the whole weekend, and will be working this Sat/Sun again.  She'll be looking forward to spending some of Y on an oil change for the car before it breaks down and also a spicy new dye job for the hair.  That is, once she figures out how to get off work before dark...

Have a great day!

Crestfallen

You know what, that's one of my favorite words.  

And the only reason it's the title of this post is because there was not a flake of snow to be found today.  A flurry here or there, but no snow.  And wouldn't you know, every.single.school. in this region was closed!  Every public school in the Seven Cities--closed, even the universities!  This is the stuff we Kansans used to dream about...closing school on the chance of snow.  It made me laugh a little.

Because I had been hoping to not have to go to work today at all, and since that somehow made me early to work, and due in part to a really good review I got today at the office = I left early.  Not really early, just the time I used to leave before these past two months have claimed my personal life.

I don't know what I'll do with my time!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Southeast Virginia is under a severe winter storm watch.  We are expected to get between 2-5 inches of snow tonight.  Now, all you Midwesterners might be scoffing at that number, but for this part of Virginia, that's enough to shut down all government facilities.  YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!  

It means I get to work from home.  You thought I was going to say it means I'm off for the day, right?  Oh, you're so silly.

No Show

In between running down 4 flights of stairs to the basement to do laundry on my one day off this week, and also having to take the dogs on walks in freezing drizzly rain, I've decided to be lazy for the remainder of my day.  Yesterday almost killed me.  I also found out I'll be working all of next weekend.  At least 12 days of straight working ahead of me.  I'm not built for this kind of stuff.  I need sleep.  I need rest.  I need me-time.  I need time to nurse the beginnings of this cold knowing if I actually get sick I would let everyone down.

So for the rest of the evening, I'll be spending me-time.  With the dogs.  On the couch.  Jamie, I know I said I'd call you tonight, but girl, if there's ever anyone who could understand my need to not talk today, it's you.  Friend, we could talk (or not talk) forever.  I promise I'll make it up to you.

In happy news, the newt has been found.  In sad news, Fig was more like a newt-crouton when J found her curled up in the corner.  We gave Sir Isaac a talking-to. It was sad seeing him all alone in his tank, but now I'm back to bare-feet and taking confident steps down the dark hallway.

Newt on the Loose

I haven't had a chance to mention the new additions to the family.  J purchased 3 new fish to join the babies.  I got to name one.  The obvious choice was Sasha Fierce.  Duh. But J also bought two fire-bellied newts, Fig and Isaac *isn't he clever*.  And I hate them.  I mean they're cute, but I hate the idea of them being in the house with me.  And their tiny little feet creep me out.  The one thing I said to J was, "You better make sure they don't get out of that tank."

So you can understand my surprise when I get home from my 10.5 hour day at the office today to hear that a newt has disappeared.  Newts don't disappear.  They're obviously the predator in the tank, nobody ate them.  I don't know if it's Fig or Isaac who's on the lam, but one of them took off. One of them packed their emotional baggage and got the heck out.  Don't know how, don't know when, but one is missing.  There were no tiny newt footprints in water to follow, no clues to his whereabouts.

I can just feel his beady little eyes on me now.  Perhaps it was my experience in college when we lived in the Mouse House that one night a mouse showed up in my bedroom. We made eye contact for several seconds before I screamed my head off (and didn't sleep a wink).  This newt will show up in my bedroom I just know it. 

I've just been alerted that Fig is the missing Newt.  Damn you, Fig, you were my favorite of the two.  I will not walk around barefooted or in the dark until you have been found, dead or alive.  For your sake, I hope you do not run into your furry brother or sister.  They may not eat you, Fig, but they'll roll on your ass until you die from it.  My advice to you is run.  Run far away.

Holy Mattress Money

Tonight when J was out on the porch grilling a couple of steaks I heard his phone ring.  As I was sautéing some green beans, I didn't answer it for him.  Then my phone rang.  It was our couch company calling to confirm an inspection tomorrow (nothing ever goes right the first time around).

"Mrs. Dale?" he asked.

After a few seconds of contemplating how to easily explain that no, we're not married, but yes, we live together and yes, it's coming, I simply answered...

"Yes?"

Hard-up for Allergy Meds

Since Christmas, I've heard at least four of my coworkers talking about how they've gotten new puppies for their kids.  Since puppy talk is like crack for me, I always immediately stop what I'm doing to ask a string of questions about the new bundle of joy.

What did you name him/her?

What color?

Don't you just love the way their paws smell like Fritos?

As we're in the break room pouring our morning cup of office-coffee-sludge, one of my favorite colleagues who we will call "M" was in the middle telling me all about the new pup he bought for his two kids when he sneezed.  Sorry, he tells me, he hasn't been able to stop since they got the dog.  He's afraid they'll have to get rid of the dog, and his son is just heartbroken. Ahh, a parent with allergies was one of the reasons I didn't have a dog until high school...I understand allergies.  I had to help.

"Do you take any allergy medicine?" I ask.  "I wouldn't be able to have my dogs if it weren't for my Allegra-180...it's a miracle drug."  By this time, M's boss has stopped by to nuke his oatmeal and top off his cup of mud-colored-sock-juice.

"Really?," M tells me in between sniffles, "Because I take Cialis for my allergies...and I haven't been impressed so far--"

I didn't even get to hear what came next because his boss's roaring laughter interrupted everything.  I didn't even have to pretend that I didn't know Cialis is a male-enhancement drug because his boss shouted out, "YOU DUMBASS--That's NOT going to make you stop sneezing!" 

At the sight of M's crimson cheeks (no doubt embarrassed that he'd had a slip of the tongue in front of the only 26-year-old female in the place, fearful that he'd get sent back to POSH training) I tried to be nice and say, "I'm sure you meant Claritin, right, well no, Claritin sucks.  You need the full-blown Allegra."  Apparently my use of "suck" and "blow" in the same breath only seemed to get his boss laughing harder than before.  Finally I joined in and had a good deep laugh, too. But the three of us were forced to catch our breath and get real, since after all the break room in a government facility is always hopping, you can imagine the looks were were getting. 

I managed to squeeze out, "Seriously though, before you break your son's heart, you should try to get some."

"My wife is a doctor so maybe she can get on top of that."

I couldn't help it.  I mumbled a quick, "That's what she said," and headed back to my desk...realizing I'd already laughed way too hard for a Wednesday morning at work.

Free Association

I watched two episodes of Jon and Kate + 8.  I love Jon and Kate + 8, by the way, seriously one of my favorite shows.  It made me think about how I can't wait to have like 8 of J's babies.  Or 2.  Or 1.  Or 8.

Speaking of J, he was at work tonight...so it was just me and the condo and the dogs and my thoughts.  I've been quite irritable this week so it was nice to have a night alone.  But when I called J to say goodnight and said if he gets off work after 2 or 3 could he please sleep in the guest room because I need my precious sleep, his response was, "But it's cold in there without you."  I missed him tonight.  And that's pretty big considering we've been on broke-people's budgets the past 2 weeks spending every minute not at work at home together.

I am so lucky in a lot of ways and one of the biggest is that I haven't lost very many people in my adult life.  Of my grandparents, I only have one living grandmother, so I've lost elders in my life, but I mean people around me in day-to-day life.  This past weekend one of my coworkers who had since moved on to a new job committed suicide.  It hit me harder than I'd expected.  Ever since I knew him I could sense an unrest in him, but it was a huge shock, and I think I was numb for most of the phone call when I found out.  Such a sad situation that is still leaving tragic ripples afterwards.  I haven't finished sorting through my thoughts on it, but I have to just say that yeah, I am still thinking about it.

For the amount of extreme exhaustion I've felt this past week, tonight is my first night solo.  I thought I'd go to bed early after a bath, perhaps with a book or my journal.  Here it is, half past 11 and I think I'm waiting up so that when J gets home I can hug him and tell him thank you. I put up a vinyl quote on my wall in my office tonight (another blog in itself) and it says, "May you live all the days of your life in love."  I think I picked it out of the 100 other choices because the other night when I was making dinner, J came up behind me as I chopped vegetables, kissed me on the back of my neck, handed me a cocktail that he'd made and said, "When we're ninety, I'm going to bring you a drink at cocktail hour just like Gramps does for Grams."  And even though it was a small statement, the sentiment behind it gave me goosebumps.  And for all the things that will happen between now and ninety-three, I am excited to experience them.  But for a second, I closed my eyes to try and catch a glimpse of us, God willing, talking about submarine races and politely demanding cheese and crackers at cocktail hour.  Old and weathered and gray and still thanking God every night for giving me this man.

The Pros and Cons of Working Late

So we've stepped right into busy season at work and I'll be working extended hours as well as mandatory Saturdays for the foreseeable future.  Possible Sundays.  I can honestly tell you the first thought that ran through my head was, "Is it too late to get a weekend job so I can tell them I have to work?" followed by a close second, "What if I taught Sunday School?" tailed by a reluctant, "Yes, I'll be here..."

In preparation of my new lifestyle, I'm tallying up some good old pros and cons:

Pro: 

1. They feed me a delicious lunch every day.  So I'm saving money by not having to pay for my own lunches, and if I can continue to order a salad then I'm being healthy.

2. The workday flies by so fast that it actually feels shorter than when I work 7:30 to 4.

3. The delirium sets in at 4 and the rest of the day is spent in a daze.

Con:

1.  I am home for like 3 hours and then I've got to go to bed.

2.  My laundry is piling up.

3.  Poor J is picking up my slack with household duties.  I tease him sometimes that he's the best housewife ever.  I'm realizing now that he's actually THE best.  He cooks, he cleans, he tends to the pooches, coordinates necessary evils like visits from the Terminex man, the cable guy, today's window installation.

4.  I feel like time is flying by.  These are precious months to me and I feel out of control and like I'll wake up tomorrow and it'll be the day before Lauren's wedding.

5.  I'm turning into a whiney baby.  Reference how long my cons list is growing.

In non-work news, my mother's dearest friend Betty Nell passed away earlier this week.  It's been a sad time at the Nickels house and I wish I could be there for my Mom and Dad.  She's been sick for quite some time and she was "ready" as I guess you could say.  When I visited her while I was home, I was shocked at how much she'd changed since I saw her when I was at home this summer.  She's seriously in a much better place now, and there's never been a time I thought I'd say those words and mean them.  The only things that's comforted me about my parents' grief is the day before she slipped into a coma-like sleep, my parents went over to her house and made a big waffle breakfast for her and every one of the gang that was taking part in caring for Betty Nell.  I know they'll be able to cherish that memory forever.  I need to stop whining now and get myself to work.