My Amazing Daughter

A lot of time, I only identify myself as the mother of a child with autism. True, he takes up a lot of time. True, my plans for the future tend to revolve around him, since I'm not sure if he'll ever be on his own. True, our entire family seems to work around his needs and issues. I have two other children, yet Bucket seems to be the cause for the way the entire family operates.

I think it is because of this that my daughter is so strong.

Yesterday, I had to take Tiger to get his ingrown toenail cut out. Ugh. Adolescent boy feet are...puke inducing? I'm not anti-feet, but my word. Ingrown toenails are almost as bad as eyeballs.

While I was gone, Missy took care of Bucket. Missy is 13 1/2, Bucket is 10 1/2. I was only gone for a bit more than an hour. In that hour, Bucket had a nosebleed and wet his pants. The nosebleeds happen a lot, but the loss of bladder control is not normal for him. More on that later.

Missy totally took control. As Bucket was screaming about his nose and his pants (he just got new cargo shorts and he was upset that both blood and pee got all over them), Missy managed to strip him down, get him in the shower, pre-treat his shorts so they wouldn't stain, start a load of laundry, and start dinner. She's THIRTEEN, peeps! I wonder if I would have been able to pull that off at thirteen? I walked into the house with a limping Tiger, to the smell of a house ripe with laundry detergent and chicken (sounds weird, but smells good, I assure you), Bucket in his pjs already, and Missy finishing up dinner. I was SO PROUD of her! She even made dessert!

So regarding the pee incident. I bought the kids water bottles in different colors. They are each 32 ounces. Mine is turquoise, Bucket's is red, Missy's is clear, and Tiger's is green. I told them that I wanted them to fill it up twice a day with water in order to avoid dehydration. I'm really trying to avoid sodas, and sugary juices, plus I want them to stop going through 15 cups a day over the summer. You get one water bottle and that's it! Anyway, Bucket really liked his bottle. It's a bright red with a straw attachment. I didn't realize this, but he filled his water bottle 3 1/2 times! That is over 100 ounces of water. Guess who had a tummyache? Poor kiddo. At least he's hydrated!

It Rained, Hallelujah, It Rained!!!

Did I spell hallelujah right? And what exactly does that mean? I'll have to google it.
Ahem.
It rained. Boy did it ever. Being woken up by a huge clap of thunder at 7am on a Sunday would not normally make me smile, but considering the clouds of wildfire smoke I've been waking up to lately, I'll take it. Supposedly, it was only half an inch, but I'm sure we had more. It rained for more than 8 hours straight. A few downpours, but mostly solid rain interspersed with breaks of drizzle. I ran outside in my pjs to pull Mr. R's tomato plants (he keeps them in pots in case it hails, supposedly I am to carry them inside...hahahaha!) out to catch the glorious rain. I made coffee. I shivered as the rain drops settled into my hair. I watched as the plants outside seemed to perk up right before my very eyes. The roses got brighter. The grass got greener. My crepe myrtle tree seemed to stand up straighter. It was lovely. I am grateful.

New Smyrna Beach

I went outside to get mail today. Credit card bill (almost done with that one.) Someone begging me to refinance my house. Labwork bill. Then something else...something from my mom. She works at a place in New Smyrna Beach that rents condos. Nice place. Sometimes I bring the kids down there to say hi to her on weekends, while we play on the ocean. I can park for free there, hahahahaha.

Sometimes my mom will send me promotional stuff, and since she works there, I do get a discount. But...NSB is 20 mins away. No point in renting a hotel room when I live 20 minutes away, you know? It seemed silly. And I am a practical girl, if ya'll haven't figured that out yet. So I've never booked a room.

So imagine my surprise when I open the letter and it says: "Happy Anniversary a few months early! Let me know by May 1st if you need to change the date. Not everyone can celebrate 15 years of marriage! We can watch the kids and Roscoe on a Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Love, Mom and George."

And there is a paid invoice for three days in a 2bedroom 2 bath condo with an ocean view for August 8-11.

Wow. Just wow. My mom? Really? WOW.

Scary Busy

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. Trust me, even my own mama rarely hears from me these days. I hung up on my own sister because she called when every kid in a 3 mile radius was in my living room. I couldn't even hear her!

This week was extraordinarily busy. On Monday, I had a follow up doctor appointment, as I already mentioned. On Tuesday, I had a department meeting in which I spent 5 hours at work, but only 3 hours actually working. Plus I had to leave early because Tiger has saxophone lessons on Tuesdays at 5pm. On Wednesday, I worked a full day, but I had almost 90 accounts, which is double my normal. I got a lot done, but not enough.

On Thursday, I had to take more time off to take Tiger to the doctor. He has an ingrown toenail. Peeps, if you have never seen one of these atrocities, you are among the blessed. I'm not queasy around body parts (except eyeballs) but this made my stomach curl and I lost my appetite. Adolescent boy feet are not my favorite part anyway, but it does get worse. TRUST ME. So I missed three hours due to this doctor appointment. Now it's Friday and all my work is due at noon...approximately 14 minutes. And what am I doing? Talking to you people. Well, I am multi-tasking, I'm on hold with a doctor's office. But yeah.

I already have plans for tonight. They include ordering pizzas, reading my pharmacology book, cleaning my bathroom, and sleeping past 7am tomorrow!!!

Sarah is Mad at the New Scale

Stoopid scale. Nemesis. JERK!


Holy mack, wouldn't I like to see 126.4. Actually, no. I think I'd be too thin. Anyway, this is the EXACT MODEL SCALE that I bought.
And I was a good girl (not counting that delicious McDonalds lunch I had...drooooooool). I set up the scale. I am P0 (that is letter P, number zero). It asked me if I was a boy or girl. Hooray, I'm a girl! It asked me how old I was. Hooray, I'm 33 for another two months! It asked me my height. Hooray, I'm 5 foot 4 depending on if I'm slouching or not! Then...I had to hop on. Grrrrr. I took off my socks (in case they weighed a few pounds) and stood on the scale. 269.2. Ewwwwww. It's actually better than I was this morning at the doctor, when I was 269.8. I guess the McDonalds flushed me out? Hahaha, I JEST. I'll take a half pound where I can get it, though. Then the directions tell you to hold still so it can calculate my body fat ratio.
Error.
Wha?
Error.
Hmmm, I must have been standing funny. I'll try it again.
Error.
I'm so confused.
I hop off the scale and grab directions. I can't believe I need directions for a stoopid scale. Error 4. I flip to the back.
"Your body fat ratio is too high to be measured."
WTF?!?!?!
Is this not a Biggest Loser scale? The scale goes up to 350 flipping pounds, you'd think it could calculate the body fat ratio of someone who weighs almost 100 less than the maximum weight!
I want another cheeseburger.

You Shall be Missed, Cheeseburger with Fries and a Coke

You could say I went out with a bang.
Another doctor appointment. Been seeing my doctor now for a month, and I have not lost ONE STINKIN POUND. Even with me being sick and vomiting and all the other glorious stuff that illness brings. NOT ONE POUND.
At least I'm consistent, right? I made the nurse crack up when I came up to the scale, and said, "Hello, nemesis!" But that's what us fat people do when we're uncomfortable, right? I may be fat, but at least I'm funny! Bwahahahaha!
My doctor? I can't make him laugh. I cracked a joke and he stared at me as if I had recited baseball stats in Korean. Crap. Humor won't save me with this guy. He said, "Are you serious about losing weight?" Well, duh. I mean I've been serious for a while. I lose ten, I gain ten. I lose twenty, I gain twenty. I know *how*. It's keeping it off that is hard to do. He asked me if I owned a scale. I laughed. He said, "I'd really suggest you purchase a scale and weigh yourself at least once a week. Reasonable weight loss should be two pounds per week." Sigh...
So I went out with my bang. Right after I left his office, I went to Target and bought a super duper digital scale. It came with a Biggest Loser dvd. And then I got McDonalds. A cheeseburger with lettuce, onions and tomatoes. And fries. With a Coke.
And it was good. Because this is going to be my last burger fries and drink for a long time. I'm really going to try. And I'm going to aim for two pounds a week. And even if I can keep up with two pounds per week, it's going to take me...sigh....fifty five weeks to reach my goal. 110 pounds. So this time next year, I'll be taking donations for my plastic surgery to get rid of the twenty pounds of leftover skin. You've been warned. I'll set up a paypal acct for ya'll.

Getting Up Early

When I was at church yesterday, I felt convicted. To be truthful, I don't remember a thing about the sermon, because our pastor was in the middle of a series that I'd missed the first part of, so I was lost. But our church has a funny little saying, in that we have "QT" which stands for Quiet Time. And Pastor said, "How are ya'll doing on your QT?"

I had to think. Well, if it's ever quiet around here, I will fall asleep in seconds. I am definitely at a point in my life where I feel bedraggled and exhausted. My health is still not 100% (I'd say it's around 75-80% these days) I work full time, take care of three kids, and desperately trying to keep up with my classes at school. Between cleaning the house, laundry, and trying to fit in some fun with my kids so they don't revolt on me, I'm TIRED. But is that really an excuse for me not being in the Word?

I decided to set my alarm for 5:45. About 30-40 minutes earlier than normal. I knew it was going to be hard. I LOVE sleeping. I love my bed, I love my pillows, I love my big old clunky fan and my warm snuggly blanket. I admit, I hit the snooze button twice, but I always do anyway. Twice is not bad for me, I've been known to smack that thing four or five times. But I got up, at about 5:55. Went potty, turned on the coffee pot, got my Bible off the shelf, and sat at my very cluttered dining room table. (note to self...ummm, clean it.) I prayed, "Dear Lord, you know I am new to getting up early to be with You. So please keep me awake and allow the reading of your Word to impact my life. Amen." I'm telling you, praying does not have to be fancy talk with "thous" and "thees". I think of it as a simple conversation. It feels more honest to me that way, but obviously you should do whatever works for you. ;)

I read the first three books of Acts. I picked it because that is what Bucket is learning in his Sunday school class, and I figured if he asked me a question, I should know what's going on, lol. I've read those passages before, but I felt warm and happy when I was done. I'm going to try and make reading my Bible in the morning a Monday-Friday habit. I'm obviously in the Word on Sunday anyway, and I'm more flexible on Saturdays since I'm not working, so I don't have to get up early. So while I am super sleepy still, I feel like I started my day off in a great way. Now, how is YOUR quiet time these days? Are your days packed like mine? Or do you have more flexibility? Can you figure out a way to have less of you, and more of Him?

Now, onto my coffee. Come on, I'm still Sarah! You know I was brewing while I was in His Word, right?

What a Fool

Are you ready for change? Are you? It's apparently acceptable for the President of our country to ridicule the handicapped. Special Olympics bowling? How dare you. How dare you take an opportunity to poke fun at people who can't help how they were born, or how they were injured. It is not amusing to me AT ALL that this is considered humor.
This is change you can keep. Fool.

A Rare Sunday Post

Because tomorrow is gonna be crazy, that's why.
Here are my plans for tomorrow:

7:30-10:30 work
clock out at 10:30, drive to Orange City for a doctor appointment at 11:10. I quit taking my bp meds because they made me cough horribly, and made my hair fall out. I mean, what the heck?!?! Must I really be the coughing bald girl in order to have good bp? Nooooooo.
Run to CVS to drop off my prescription. Pick it up after work, possibly 5pm.
I'm assuming I'll be back at my desk by 12:30 or 1pm.
Work from 1pm - 4pm.
4pm-10pm. My real job. Mothering!!! Make dinner, clean house, organize homework, kiss boo-boos, break up fights, shred paperwork, and monitor TV usage.
Yeah, me too. Tired already.
10pm: Collapse.

Anyhoo, I am thrilled to report that I am on vacation between April 6-April 10. I literally CANNOT WAIT. Mr. R and I are setting up a vegetable garden, and hopefully we will have time to start some more citrus trees. I basically plan to be filthy and dirty for an entire week. Should be good stuff. Besides that, I'm sure we'll have time for fishing, photography, grilling, and I really want to work on my pile of sewing, plus finishing up the grandparent's photo albums. Phew! It's going to be busy but fun.

Anyway, good night for now. Time for me to hit the hay. BTW, hay is scratchy. I'd never sleep in hay if I could avoid it.

Walk in the Word Wednesday (a day late)

Proverbs 20:19

A gossip betrays a confidence;
so avoid a man who talks too much.

Boy, did I just get burned on this one.

I am friends with people I have known since I was 14, at high school in Orlando. Their names, to shield them, will be Jack and Mary. Jack and Mary also dated all through high school and got married shortly after graduation, although a few years after Mr. R and I did. Jack and Mary are not getting along right now. They have two children. Jack has had some medical issues and Mary is carrying a heavy load. I understand this completely. That being said, since Jack has more spare time, I tend to hear from him a bit more. We chat about kids, work (we work for same hospital) and old times. It's fun to talk to him. He's smart, funny, and since we're both in the medical field, the same stupid hospital jokes appeal to us.

Earlier this week, he emailed me this long letter about how much he loves his wife, but that she ignores him and brushes him off and that they no longer have sex. Being the kind of person who loves to "help" people, we talked about the situation for a few hours, and I talked about how Mr. R and I got through some troubles of our own in the past.

Peeps, DO NOT DO THIS. I didn't consider it gossip, but Mary went through Jack's facebook email and found our letters back and forth. Now she is furious with both of us. Even though I never said one hurtful word towards her, she is horrified that we were talking about her romantic life, and now that I think about it, I can't say I blame her. I'd be mortified if Mr. R was talking about sex with another woman. What in the world was I thinking?! Even though I wasn't giving explicit directions about what I like, or what he might like, we were still having an intimate conversation and it was totally wrong.

I'm still not sure I consider my actions gossip, but I will certainly remember in the future, that when a man (friend, coworker, relative) comes to me asking for romantic/marriage advice, I will steer him promptly to his church pastor, a counselor, or my own husband. I don't have any reason to be giving marital advice out. To my friend Mary who doesn't read my blog, I am sorry if you felt I broke any confidences. I was trying to be a friend to Jack and I did that in a wrong way.

Sad face... :(

Is This Going to Become a Venting Blog?

Peeps, I have to say it. I must, I MUST!

You'd think, hey, it's 80 degrees in Florida, who could possibly be sick. Me, of course. Still. And due to the nature of my jobby-job, I am on the phone a lot. Coughing. Hacking. Sounding mysteriously like my 83 year old grandpa. And everyone says,

"Oh, are you sick?" (No, I cough like this for emphasis.)
"Have you tried hot tea and lemon?" (Have you bought stock in Lipton? Why do you care?)
"You should get that cough checked out. My blankety-blank friend/relative ended up having lung cancer." (Thanks for thinking of me in that way.)
"Wow, you've been sick for a while." (I'm impressed with how astute you are.)
"Have you seen a doctor?" (If I say no, will you babysit my kids while I go?)

There. Illness etiquette. All for you, my dear friends. In complete opposition to this post, I will have Walk in the Word Wednesday in a little bit. I forgot last week, due to feeling like 20 pounds of poo in a ten pound bag. But I will be back to normal someday. I am claiming it!
Is it just me, or am I meaner when I'm sick?

I Lost My Cool

But I swear it, ya'll will understand why. This is me calling an insurance company:

"Hello, this is Todd from ABC Insurance."
"Hello! My name is Sarah, and I'm calling from Florida Hospital in Orlando."
"Hi Sarah. What state are you calling from?"
Me: Silence. "Ummm, Florida."
"And what city would you be located in?"

Unfortunately, my friends, that is when I dropped my chalupa.

"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Hi Todd. Listen, I said I'm calling from Florida Hospital in Orlando. That pretty much gives you all your info right there, doesn't it?"
Silence on his end.
But hey, I got the authorization I was needing.
Let this be a lesson to us all: God gave us two ears and one mouth for a reason. Twice as much listening, half as much talking! Remember that!
Now where are my blood pressure meds?

Screaming is an Option

Ok, let me just say, I love my husband, but if he was here, I'd strangle him.
Guys, I am still sick. I am fairly sure I have pneumonia, but I don't want to go to the doctor because I have no one to watch my kids, and I don't have time to be admitted. So I'll suffer until Mr. R gets home, and then maybe I'll go to the doctor and spend a few days in the hospital if needed. Crazy, right?
Anyway, Mr. R called me, right when I was in the middle of finishing up an acct and typing and he still kept yammering my ear off. I was trying to listen. He keeps calling me with diet tips and depression advice. So to say that these phone calls annoy me, is not an exaggeration.
Example: "Honey, go for an hour long walk! Kevin Trudeau says it cures depression!" Me, inwardly: "How depressed will I be that after 30 minutes, I'll be two miles from home and too tired to walk back? And no one around to pick my pathetic butt off the ground?"
Mr. R: "Honey, drink organic milk! It's better for you than regular milk." Me, inwardly: "I'm lactose intolerant. Will my explosive diarrhea be organic?"
And, the kicker: "Honey, I think your doctor is a quack. " This time, I didn't comment inwardly. I screamed "Then why did you cancel our reversal appointment?!?!" His response: "I just thought you needed to lose 50 pounds, that's it. I still want to have babies with you."
Peeps, I just wanted to cry. I don't like my emotions getting messed with. He KNOWS how badly I wanted this. And I am almost 34, I don't have much time left, biologically. This drives me crazy. Why mess with me? Why?
I said "NO." He was shocked. He said, "What do you mean, no?" "No, I'm done. You canceled the appointment, you decided you didn't want the surgery, and I cannot go jumping back and forth. We're done. No."
Now he says I'm being drastic!
I need to lie down.

I'm Too Short to Wear Capris, and Other Nonsense

I don't normally log in on a Saturday, but all three kids are gone. Really! Bucket and Tiger are over at a friend's birthday, and Missy is out with her friend Jennifer. The house is quiet. And instead of studying, I'm blogging. Oh please. Like you're any different.
This morning, Missy and I drove over to Sanford. I had to renew our membership at BJ's (which is like Sam's, so no jokes!) and get gas there because gas is like 15 cents cheaper in Sanford than it is in Deltona. Then I stopped off at Avenue, which is a plus size clothing store. Missy insisted because the pocket is blown out on my favorite cords, and since they're black, she says its looks like I had a poop blowout. Yikes.

Now, Avenue has lots of nice slacks. But I am not in the market for those right now. I have three pairs of nice slacks, a brown pair, a black pair, and a pinstripe gray. So I'm good on dress pants. I suppose if I worked outside my home, that would not be enough, but seriously, I'm not going to wear pants that need ironing just to sit in my dining room and type, ya dig? I also don't like elastic waist pants. I also call them "I have no sex life" pants and "I give up" pants. Yes, I do have a few pairs of yoga pants, but these pants had no shape and were tapered. No thanks.

I do own one pair of jeans, but I have issues with jeans. I have a smaller waist and a great big butt and thighs. So if a pair of jeans fits me in the tush and thighs, it gapes in the back. If it fits my waist, there is no way on God's green earth I'll get em over the thunder thighs. That's how I roll, peeps. I like being impossible to work with. So I thought, I'll find myself some nice summer skirts. An A-line skirt is perfect for me. Smaller in the waist, then flares out so I can pretend I don't have 50 pound thighs. But no...not a single skirt in the store. I am not kidding. Tons of pants, tons of jeans, tons of dresses, and...capris. Sigh...so I grabbed three pairs and headed into the dressing room. No. No no no no no. These are WRONG. Yes, the fit in the waist. However, the fact that the fabric ends right around my shins look like I either shrunk a perfectly decent pair of pants, or that I'm playing dress up in a giant pair of shorts. Crap. I put them back.

I ended up with a new nightie and robe. Hey, I needed a lightweight robe. The one I have is a heavy fabric that makes me sweat. I only use it when I have the flu.

So, no capris for me. I have five, count them, FIVE skirts in my repair basket that need to be worked on. Maybe instead of buying new skirts, I should just fix the ones I have. My favorite red skirt? I brushed up against a wall at church that had just been painted and got white paint all over the bottom. So now I have to hem the skirt (it's ok, that skirt was floor length) up to my knees. This might actually make it more wearable. Maybe I'll take pics and show you what I did to it.

Anyway, I think I'm done blabbing for now. I guess the kids being out of the house is making me nonsencially insane. I'm not even sure why I wrote this. Except to tell you, I'm too short to pull off capris.

The End.

The Bucket is Not Wise

I had to take Bucket to Target last night for socks. He hates the ones at Wal-Mart, and we always love a trip to Target. On the way, we passed Old Navy.
Bucket said, thoughtfully, "Mom, I'm starting middle school next year."
I said, "Yes, son, I'm quite proud of you."
He said, "You can't go to middle school looking like a dork."
Well, how can you argue with that logic?
"Can we go to Old Navy and buy me some school clothes? If you get a credit card, you get 20% off!"

My goodness, I think he's ready to run the Federal Reserve.

Sleep Does Amazing Things for Me

I went to bed at 10:15 and woke up at 4am, having a horrible dream about robotic dinosaurs trying to kill me (what the heck?!?!) I did fall back asleep until 6am when my alarm went off. Despite my weird dream, I feel a lot better today. There's a lot to say for some decent sleep and a routine. I'm incredibly glad for my job right now, glad that I have something to bury my mind in, so I don't think about sweet baby cheeks and chubby baby thighs. ~sigh~
For now, I'm just waiting for my coffee, and eating a cherry vanilla yogurt. I was going to have a banana, but they went ripe really fast so I guess I'm making banana bread this weekend instead.
I'm still sad, still depressed, but not totally down for the count.

Refund

Mr. R called our reversal doctor today to request a refund of the deposit we put down for our procedure.
I can't believe it's not going to happen.
I've been dreaming of this for four years, and it got yanked out from underneath me less than four months before it was going to happen.
I think I'm in shock. My hands are shaking. I feel cold and sick inside.
Mr. R wanted to know what I wanted to do with the money ($500.)
I told him he could have it for himself. It was a portion of my retirement fund. I don't even care about the money.
I think he's going to go on a fishing trip.
Yay. Fishing.

Giggly

No, I'm not really in a better mood, but Tiger made me proud this morning. The %^$&^%! dog peed on the rug again. I know he's getting older and bladder issues can happen, but I swear all this dog does is pee on every rug in the house, including bath mats, kitchen mats, and the rug where Mr. R keeps his drums (ummm, that didn't go over well.) This morning, I got up and immediately saw the rug 'ol Roscoe targeted last night (or this morning)...the rug under the recliner. I mopped around it, but that recliner is heavy and I needed to pull the rug out so I could wash it today. I mentioned to Tiger that I needed his "man muscles" to lift the recliner so I can grab the rug. Then I told him to eat breakfast and he could help me after he ate.
Fifteen minutes later, I said, "Are you ready to help me with that rug?" and he said, "Mom, I did it already. The rug is in the laundry room."
What a change. I beamed and told him how proud I was that he honored my request the first time without my repeating myself. He beamed back and said "It was easy, Mom. I'm glad I could help you."
So yes, maybe I am feeling better. I guess it's the small things that brighten a dark world.

Again

I might be taking another bloggy break, friends. It appears the grotesque head of depression is visiting me again. Not sure yet, so you never know when I will pop in.

My health has really gotten me down. The worst part is, is that I feel ok. The sinus infection kind of blew the lid off other stuff. My pcp was none too kind to me. I go in there wanting relief from the high fever, cough, the lack of breathing...and I get raked over the coals for my weight, blood pressure, and family history. (hey, I can't control my family history...duhh!) He basically told me that if I don't lose 120 pounds, I'll probably be dead before I'm 40. (although I was pleased that by their scale, I'm down to 268...6 pounds since Thanksgiving, which isn't much, but I'll take it.) He put me on a blood pressure medication that causes fetal harm, which means I can't get pregnant right now. Then Mr. R decided that unless I lose 50 pounds in the next 3 months, he is not doing the reversal.

So basically, I give up on the reversal. If it was easy to lose 50 pounds, I think I would have done it by now. I told Mr. R to call the physician and get our deposit back. I'm mourning the future babies I was dreaming of. Reminding myself that I have three children who I already love dearly, and I can throw my love into them without abandon. As for Mr. R....of course I still love him, but I resent the hoops he wants me to jump through. He called me this morning and acted like everything was fine and dandy, but it's not. I'm sad about the reversal, I'm sad about my weight, I'm sad about my health. So basically, I'm just sad. I'm also having issues with my two older kids and their attitudes, their grades, and their foul mouths. I feel like I'm failing them as a parent right now, and what business do I really have making more kids right now anyway?

I have another doctor appointment on April 6 to make sure the blood pressure medicine is working out. I think I may ask for a referral to a mental health specialist to be treated for depression. I never noticed before how frequent my spells hit me, but by reading through my own blog, I realize that the depression spells seem to hit me on a regular 2-3 month cycle.

Anyway, I just got my fax, I have 48 accts which isn't bad at all. I'm going to spray the oven down because it is really dirty in there, have another cup of coffee, take my baby-killing blood pressure meds, and get to work. Oh, and today is the first day of another class at Herzing University...pharmacology. I had to order two books for one class! Hope it goes well. As I'm getting further and further into my classes, I'm liking them more and more. I feel like I'm getting toward my goal of my coding degree. At least I'm doing well somewhere in something, right?