(no subject)

I've hit the exhaustion wall.

Yesterday after my other post, wherein we had surprise thingy-removal, as I was getting us ready to go drop off my eight billion prescriptions, the Zweeble fell and smacked his head into the corner of the wall. He didn't get a goose egg, he got a flippin' ostrich egg on his forehead. So I iced it, called the doctor, and took him in, at which point it faded out and the swelling went down and I felt like an idiot. But whatever, I'm a first-time parent.**

Anyway, he's fine. Except I think it was bothering him last night, so he slept with us. Sometimes this works okay, sometimes not. last night was somewhere in the middle, but adding it on top of the headache I had all day yesterday, the surprise thingy-removal, and the recovery from the adrenaline rush of "Holy cats, it's like he's growing another head!"--oh, and the fact that I just haven't been sleeping very well lately (or, actually, ever)--and I woke up this morning feeling as tired as I usually feel at 5pm.

But I have all kinds of stuff to get done today--get those prescriptions filled, get the laundry done, get my regular chores done, etc--so ... onward! Caffeine up, baby!

I expect to pass out tonight by 9.

The day is starting out cloudy, which is nice. Humid, but easy on the eyes. I rode my bike last night (I didn't want to expose the headache to an aerobics mix of Justin Timberlake), which was great until I hit the headwind. But even that wasn't horrific. My mother's coming over this afternoon while I head to another appointment, so I'll get to see her for a little bit.

All right. Onward, into the day. Once more unto the breach; we few, we happy few, we band of Zweeble ...

**If you have two kids and kid #1 does something new and freaky, do you still get to overreact to it and rush him/her to the doctor? Or is that out as soon as kid #2 makes his/her appearance?

all hail the healing power of grammar (and swearing)

Today has been rocky. To wit: tired mother, tired kid, idiotic insurance plan,** and a dirty diaper.

But the bright spots:

1. plowing through the rest of my to-do list today.

2. I think I taught the Zweeble to say ... er ... well, a Bad Word. The Bad Word we all figured Scott would teach him.

Mommy (to herself): "What the [bad word], they couldn't have called me yesterday to let me know this? And what the [bad word]--the [longer version of bad word] brochure for the medicine had a whole [longer version of bad word] section on adult acne! [Totally different bad word]!"

Zweeble (whispers): "[bad word]."

(two minutes later)

Zweeble: (whispers): "[bad word]."

Yes, yes it is a bright spot. Because it sounded so cute when he said it.

3. After I changed a sleeping Zweeble without waking him up (hallelujah), Scott called to ask me about the Oxford comma. Just whether it really was just the comma before the "and" in a list. So I got to expound a little bit on the Oxford comma (which I like to use, myself), and ... then I felt entirely better.

I'm a weirdo. But we knew that.


**apparently my topical gel was denied because of my age. I am too old for them to cover it. I called the doctor to see if she can give me something else, the office was very nice, but it was really just the end of my rope. So I got mad. Called down a pox on the house of whoever made the age rule. A pox that can only be remedied with that particular medication.

I would seriously love the O. Henry Magic Wand o' Doom and Irony.

[bad word]! [longer, Oedipal version of bad word]!

So, in the end, not only will my insurance company not cover the topical gel stuff, there's nothing similar that can be prescribed because they won't cover that, either. It's all about Retin-A and use for wrinkles, and apparently how no woman over 30 (or 18, according to the nurse at the office) has acne, she must want this stuff for wrinkles.

For the record, while I have gray hair, I do not, as yet, have wrinkles.

Anyway. I'm slightly suspicious of the dermatology office, but that's neither here nor there. They told me to use the other stuff, they're the big ones, and after a quick call to the pharmacy,** I found that the other two scripts are covered, but they won't be in until tomorrow. That's fine. I have samples.

So, a pox on the houses of all the people involved in this policy--those who ruined it for the rest of us by abusing the system, and those who made the rule.

There are further bright spots in my day, though--lots of work done, my to-do list continuing to be plowed through, and hugs from my kid. So ... hm. I'd say it works out to being a good day.

Oh, and Guitar Hero has effectively killed my enjoyment of "Heart-Shaped Box" and "Message in a Bottle."

**I actually tried to find this out on the website. I have a master's degree in English, and I could *not* understand what this site was telling me.