Sunday Stealing: The You Can't Be Missed Meme, Part Three
Disappointment On The Cookie Front

Nutella: The Opposite Of Mustard

I decided that last week. As far as appeal and desirability and the wanting to have it near me and, too, IN me, it's the truth. Don't you find?

I'm eating a salad right now. We went to Florida all last week and the traveling food put me up on the scale a few pounds, so I'm trying to knock them back off. I even dragged the family along on a walk to 7-11 for a Diet Coke run on Saturday, instead of driving. Jack complained the whole time. He doesn't like to walk. He doesn't like to run, either. He just likes to ride. Lazy, he is. He gets it from his mother.

Where was I?

Oh, right. Nowhere, really, except that I checked out my Google Reader blogs tonight for the first time in ages and noticed that I've posted almost nothing but memes lately. I know y'all hate that, so "here my am!" (A three-year-old daughter of a once-friend said that upon emerging from her house, and I found it so darling that it immediately went into the Things-I-Will-Remember-Even-If-I-Have-Alzheimer's Vault. You have one too, don'tcha?)

I have an early-morning appointment with Chloë's dentist, first of all, to fix the appliance that she broke quite by accident last night, and second, at the Naval hospital, to have a skin check for various squamous cell carcinoma-melanoma-Oklahoma type things I have going on in various places on my person. I planned on pulling an all-nighter so I don't oversleep and miss them both. It's not unusual for me to do that; I average 2-3 a week. Suddenly, though, I am yawning. I just got back from 7-11 with my Coke refill and that salad, and I dove headfirst into the salad. Since I can't drink and eat at the same time anymore, thanks to Oscar, my caffeine-loading has plummeted. As long as I keep up a certain level of caff in the system, I can go indefinitely.

I never shoulda stopped the Caffeine-Free Lifestyle of which I was once so proud. It all started last summer, when I went freebie-blog/homeschooling-prep/Girl Scout Leader-prep crazy and had no time or energy for anything. So I had a cup of coffee one night, and whammo! It woke me UP! I liked that. I made myself sick on Mountain Dew while cramming for a final exam in college one time, so it had been ages since I'd really had a decent amount of caffeine. Well, now it's all over, and I am, sadly, addicted. Gots to have it.

Speaking of which, the other day we were leaving the afore-mentioned Naval hospital after Sophia's neurology appointment (which is a whole 'nother post, by the way), and I saw a poster in the hallway about a study on caffeine-induced psychosis. "Stop, kids! Wait!" I demanded, so I could peruse the poster for a quick sec. I didn't really glean anything important from it other than, "Hm, maybe I shouldn't drink so much of this shit, but since I already knew that for other reasons, I will carry on and ignore this lovely piece of information."

And speaking of psychosis, I had a tearful breakdown to Rob the other day, in which I confessed that I think more is wrong with me, mentally, than "just" bipolar disorder. Which isn't "just" anything, and I seem to have a particularly nasty case of it myself. So I really don't need more bugs in the attic, if you know what I mean. Anyway, I got myself all convinced that I have schizophrenia or dissociative disorder or some other fun problem, and I'm going to totally break from reality, and ruin the lives of everyone who ever met me.

Hey, I wonder where Chloë gets her Drama Queen tendencies? I don't know.

Anyway, so I have this skin check tomorrow. I thought it would take at least a month to be seen, between getting an appointment just to have the referral put in, and then the specialist appointment, but it's all happening very fast. Which ought to freak me out, but it's having quite the opposite effect, actually. I was so freaked out, having talked myself into a Stage 4 case of Malignant Melanoma (which may or may not even be an actual, eh, stage of this type of cancer), and then the wheels moved very quickly, and now I'm being seen imMEjutly, and I feel like, wow, people are paying attention to this problem I'm having and it's going to be taken care of, and I'll be okay. Either way, I'll be okay. I just feel better knowing that my symptoms are being addressed expediently and with the proper level of seriousness, rather than dismissed the way I usually feel my concerns are. Know what I mean?

So let me drink some of this delicious beverage, and I'll be back with some pictures of stuff. I know ya like pictures of stuff.


P.S. Could someone put away the rest of this salad for me? My arse seems to be glued to this chair at the moment. Kthxbai.