spoke clearly. I can’t tell you how often I’m in a doctor’s office, and the nurse is over on her chair mumbling away and I’m just sitting there staring off into space minding my own business – ’cause I don’t want to eavesdrop on her talking to herself – and I realize halfway through the second mental verse of "Nine more weeks, nine more weeks, niiiiiiiiiiiine moooooooooooore weeeeeeeeeeeeks" she’s looking at me and politely waiting for my answer. And I jump and raise my eyebrows and say "Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you?", whilst feeling like an idiot. Have you noticed that I feel like an idiot a lot? With good reason, I’m sure you’re thinking. Anyway, after Dr. D checked out my ear ("Hey, there’s fluid back there…" "No shit, really?"), and I took a hearing test ("There’s definitely some hearing loss in that ear" "No shit, really?"), I was given three options – more antibiotics, leave it alone and see what happens, let them slice open my eardrum and suck out the fluid – the third of which there were two sub-options – have it done in the office while awake or have it done at the hospital under anesthesia – and I chose to have my eardrum slit open (okay, it’s a small slit) and have the fluid sucked out while I am blissfully unaware early Monday morning. (Wow, talk about your convoluted run-on sentence) Depending on the amount of fluid they suck out, she may stick a small tube in my eardrum, which will fall out of it’s own accord in a couple of months. Sounds like fun, no? Noooo, but better to be asleep than awake, thanks. I’ve always opted for general anesthesia when given the choice, because I’m a big scaredy chicken and the thought of being awake to hear them SUCKING FLUID OUT OF MY EAR gives me the heebies.Gah. Just thinking about it makes me wanna have nightmares. When they did the ultrasound the day before the spud was born and realized how big she was (10 lbs, 2 oz, thankyewverymuch), they suggested a c-section and gave me the option of local or general anesthesia. I had no desire to be awake while they were fiddling around in my insides, thanks anyway. The recovery was rough (my sister still tells the story about her visiting me in the hospital after I’d had the spud, and I was laying there chatting with her all perky-like, and without giving any clue to her that I was in pain, rang the nurse and asked for morphine) but to this day I’m glad I wasn’t awake for the event. Wasting time on IRC To present the banality of conversations on IRC, I present to you: The Great Eggs on Toast Debate Cbud: Okay, downloading a slow mail anyway. Cbud: And eating scrambled eggs on toast. **Cbud is now known as CbudEGGS
Robyn_: Don’t the eggs fall off the toast? CbudEGGS: I am eating them on a plate, with a knife and fork *DEric is hungry CbudEGGS: Like a civilised person Robyn_: You’re cutting your toast with a knife and fork? That’s like eating a candy bar with a knife and fork. CbudEGGS: Look, your eggs fall off the toast, mine don’t. Robyn_: I didn’t say my eggs fall off my toast. I asked if yours didn’t. CbudEGGS: Well, you asked in a way that suggested that it was a normal thing to happen. CbudEGGS: You American people, you eat doughnuts all day so you aren’t used to using knives and forks. CbudEGGS: or McDonald’s Robyn_: My eggs DO NOT fall off my toast, do you hear me? NEVERNEVERNEVER. DEric: My eggs never fall off my toast either. Awfully touchy, isn’t he? Anyway, the reason my scrambled eggs don’t fall off my toast is ’cause I don’t eat scrambled eggs on toast. So there. I noticed, as I checked my sitemeter stats this morning that someone had followed a referral from their stats back to the bookmarks page I set up for my own personal use. I can’t guarantee it, but I’m pretty sure I know who it was, and now I know where he works. I’d start stalking him but 1. I haven’t the energy to do the stalking thing, and 2. I’m not that kind of gal. Really, I’m not! Hey, he could do worse than to be stalked by me. He could be stoned to death by a group of thirsty monkeys. Tomorrow’s Friday! Woohoo! ]]>