I've been spending a whole lot of time with The Boy lately, and I've yet to grow sick of his presence. This is a fairly good indicator that I won't, in fact, grow sick of him. I do rather hope that to be the case.
With each day that goes by I hate my job more and more, but I haven't exactly had much opportunity to look for a new one, considering that I'm always at work. Grr. Andrew's holding my sanity together. I'm starting to feel a bit bad for asking so much of him, not just time and energy, but support in all forms, as well. I know he gives it willingly, that I don't really even need to ask, but...I've always been so independent that relying on someone, anyone, is hard.
Friday morning I got a phone call from the Mankato Clinic, calling to confirm an appointment with Dr. So-and-So for Monday. I was like, uh, what? I've never heard of this doctor, let alone made an appointment with them. Turns out my primary care guy had made an appointment for me...at a time while I'd be at work, so I rescheduled. Not even knowing what kind of doctor it was for. Turns out, it's for a neurologist. For my headaches. Which are getting worse again. Don't tell Andrew, he doesn't know. He won't be happy, either, but...I suppose I ought to tell him before I start collapsing again. Which, at the rate things are going, should be in a month or two. Which is bad, because my now-rescheduled appointment with the neurologist isn't until mid-March. Grr.
I need to clean out the fridge today, and do dishes. Icky. I'm not particularly looking forward to doing either of them, but my family has been gone since last Tuesday and I haven't really done much housework since then except run a load of dishes through the wash. There are lots of leftovers that need to be dealt with, and all the pots and pans. Hm. Maybe I can enlist Andrew to help...
And now I'm off to work. Again. Grr.
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