Friday, February 04, 2011

Upper Cut

Yesterday I drove.

I drove Girl to school.

I drove to my doctors appointment.

I drove home.

I drove over to the college and picked Girl up.

Then I let  Beloved drive when we went to have our taxes completed.

And then I hurt all over and ran a temperature.

It was great to drive...but the aftermath of all that driving and walking and waiting and rushing was an upper cut to the jaw and left me weary and worn out.

However, the doctor had all nice things to say about my progress. She asked me how I felt the surgery went. Really? Because, just between you and I, I have no idea what happened after they gave me Valium. Not only am I a cheap drink date, but apparently I am a cheap drug date too.

I asked how she thought things went and she thoughts things went great! Why, she even had pictures to show me.

Pictures of me innards.

It was totally gross.

But it did give me insight to what was going on inside and why things were happening the way they were. Doctor also found out some other things that were wrong, but was happy to report that all the pathology reports came back clear. It seems I got a two for one because they removed a foreign entity to boot. She said, "I figured since we were in there, we might as well."

Ain't that swell.

Of course now I am left with full color pictures of my insides. I've decide to put them with the cd-rom of my previous mammogram. You know, just for a keep sake. Or a weird party conversation piece.

Later that afternoon we visited the tax gal. Let me just say that I am not a fan of the tax man. I think he takes too much of me money and blows it on stupid welfare...but that's another rant for another time.

My Beloved is making great money these days. All those years in the trenches are paying off. I asked for more hours after we moved into the little green house on the corner and also received a raise. We made more money this year than we have ever made.

And the state of Oregon, once again, is demanding more of it.

Beloved isn't stoopid and since we ended up paying those idiots last year, he adjusted his withholding early in the year to compensate for the income that he is now making. It made a difference so that we only owe the state a couple hundred instead of several hundred.

Me likey.

Our tax gal is a hoot! But she grew very serious and pointed out that we a stones throw away from the next tax bracket and that it will KILL us next year.

Me no likey.

That was a left hook to the kidneys baby.

So, now we need to make some decisions. Beloved will make more money in the coming year. He's already been warned that it's looking like mandatory OT for several months. OT tends to make him crabby. The one cure for the a tired, crabby Beloved is the little wifey who takes care of him and all the little details around the home. I'm a most excellent wife, just ask him. He likes to be babied. Show me a man who doesn't.

We need to make some decisions about money and time and who does what when.

I see a long talk in our future.

Just sayin'.

And now, it's off to bed. I was a bad girl all day yesterday with running around.

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