Good Times, Bad Times

The more you don't write, the more nothing there is to not write about.

I have a new car. And by "new" I mean "used." My Sedona finally stuck out its tongue at me one too many times. I love my new used car. It reminds me of the cute little Neon I drove when I was young.

Firecracker had her yearly brain MRI, which made me feel weepy. But it doesn't change anything, so I'm back to sneaking peeks at this illness from the corner of my eye.

A rather annoying situation at church has developed. Dear Husband was working on a Seder and was feeling that the church was not very supportive and hardly anyone was registering, so he thought he should back out. He was so miserable that I thought it the best course. Well, that resulted in a mean spirited and unprofessional email from one of the staff. As a result he's been feeling pretty wretched, but the response didn't make him feel like sticking around, that's for sure. Now the church wants us to write some sort of letter airing our concerns. Jolly.

The 4000th episode of Goede Tijden Slechte Tijden has come and gone, yet the angst remains. Lucas and Noud are still star-crossed, and I fear I will be stuck in this tangled story line until Christmas. Please note: never undertake a building project alone, at night, in an abandoned sanitarium, with a flashlight the size of a pickling cucumber, and be assured that those odd noises you hear are the sounds of someone sneaking about for an inexplicably long time instead of just jumping out and slitting your throat right away. Finally, keep your bloody cell phone on your person. If you are concerned that there is a possibly dangerous someone lurking, don't think, "Hey, I'll just leave my cell phone here while I go investigate that noise upstairs. Meanwhile, why don't you leave your cell phone next to mine and head off in that direction and look for X, who has not been seen since she wandered off without her cell phone. See ya in a bit."

How I Spent My Birthday

First I went to see the oncologist. My surgeon referred me because the ductal carcinoma they examined was hormone responsive. So I have to consider taking tomoxifin, which blocks estrogen. The oncologist told me there was a huge European study that showed no benefits and a huge American study that showed significant benefits. The risk of recurrence for me is small, but tomoxifin would cut that risk in half. So I have some thinking to do.

Second stop was my primary care physician, because I have a sinus infection. Again. If this keeps up I'll have to see an allergist, or an ENT, or something. Dear Husband has seen and ENT and needs surgery, but the ENT referred him to an immunologist, who drew six vials of blood and is testing him for every auto-immune disorder known to man, because he thinks Dear Husband has an auto-immune disorder triggered by the environment. I don't want to think about what direction we would have to take if they did find such a thing. Dear Husband wonders if we should move to Colorado Springs.

Side note: My doctors are very good-looking. It's kinda distracting.

Then on to summer camp to drop off paperwork. We had lunch in there somewhere, and we were taking a nap when the auto repair shop called to tell us that the repair to Dear Husband's car would cost $800 because Mazda would have special order it from Japan. The think this will fix the problem.

Despite all this, Dear Husband still brought home an ice-cream cake for me. Sweetie. But we are now faced with a bad car situation. We do not have $800 to repair the car, this after paying $300 previously for what they thought would fix it. And what next? More problems, more repairs? Our best chance is to roll our current upside-down note into the purchase of another car.

Isn't that pathetic? Because we can't pay for a repair, we have to trade in for another car, because that's the only credit we have at the moment. And our credit rating is only fair. And we have to buy it this weekend, because Dear Husband's car will eventually just not start. Dear Husband managed to find a good deal, and now I'm waiting the dreaded call to go sign off on the paperwork. He signed off on his part yesterday, so this is supposed to be simple. Right.

But this weekend he took me to an Ethiopian restaurant for dinner. Ethiopian cuisine is one of my favorites and I was in heaven. The two Ethiopian beers helped, too.

Today Dear Husband is off with the girls watching Shrek III, and I'm trying to finish up editing a children's book on the Little Rock Nine. More about that later, perhaps, since it got me thinking. But I keep getting distracted by YouTube, where I go to watch clips of tango dancing. Really, my mind jumps around a lot lately.