Planning = FAIL
I burst into tears yesterday when I realised I had missed a waxing appointment I made about (it seems) a year ago. I haven't depilated since just before Christmas, and every time I get in a swimming pool I feel like there is seaweed growing on my legs. The underarms don't bug me that much, but I know that every time I lift my arms up at work everyone else gets an eyeful, and they probably think it's feral (they'd be right). My brows are as free range as it gets, like two hairy caterpillars angrily marching towards one another.
I'd DIY except that it is getting increasingly hard to bend down to my legs. And I just abhor shaving, especially since the hormones give me about a five- no, make that 11-o'clock shadow and heinous stubble.
But seriously, it seems that everything lately has been getting too hard, too arduous, and can never seem to achieve anything that requires me taking some time out to do something for me alone. MrT is doing a term in ICU which means he is doing long hours- 8am to about 9pm for four days then 8pm to 9am for three to four days. He then takes about three days to recover, and that normally gives us maybe three days of normalcy per fortnight before it all starts again. Also, because he's quite experienced there, they often give him extra shifts if they need someone to fill in, but conversely it's hard for them to find someone to replace him when he's unable to do a shift. And because he's a kind and soft-hearted fellow, he doesn't ever say no to these extra days. It sucks.
Consequently, it has taken me since early December to get together a twenty minute powerpoint on chronic post stroke pain, and the renovations in the laundry- well, I have given up on getting in new flooring, I'll just have to put up with bare concrete. Having an office in the laundry with the other domestic items seems very appropriate. I've been relegated to the same place as the cat's bowl and the nappy soaking buckets. Great. I'm meant to be studying for the fellowship exam this year, but I bet you can guess how THAT is going.
Oh and I failed the glucose tolerance test. I've got this weekend of eating as much toast, pasta, potatoes and watermelon as I can before I officially get the news from my obstetrician on Monday. Is that irresponsible of me? Probably, but how exactly do you get enough protein to be pregnant when you're a vegetarian on a low GI diet? Without becoming sufficiently flatulent to run your own biofuels plant? I guess I'll find out.
I'd DIY except that it is getting increasingly hard to bend down to my legs. And I just abhor shaving, especially since the hormones give me about a five- no, make that 11-o'clock shadow and heinous stubble.
But seriously, it seems that everything lately has been getting too hard, too arduous, and can never seem to achieve anything that requires me taking some time out to do something for me alone. MrT is doing a term in ICU which means he is doing long hours- 8am to about 9pm for four days then 8pm to 9am for three to four days. He then takes about three days to recover, and that normally gives us maybe three days of normalcy per fortnight before it all starts again. Also, because he's quite experienced there, they often give him extra shifts if they need someone to fill in, but conversely it's hard for them to find someone to replace him when he's unable to do a shift. And because he's a kind and soft-hearted fellow, he doesn't ever say no to these extra days. It sucks.
Consequently, it has taken me since early December to get together a twenty minute powerpoint on chronic post stroke pain, and the renovations in the laundry- well, I have given up on getting in new flooring, I'll just have to put up with bare concrete. Having an office in the laundry with the other domestic items seems very appropriate. I've been relegated to the same place as the cat's bowl and the nappy soaking buckets. Great. I'm meant to be studying for the fellowship exam this year, but I bet you can guess how THAT is going.
Oh and I failed the glucose tolerance test. I've got this weekend of eating as much toast, pasta, potatoes and watermelon as I can before I officially get the news from my obstetrician on Monday. Is that irresponsible of me? Probably, but how exactly do you get enough protein to be pregnant when you're a vegetarian on a low GI diet? Without becoming sufficiently flatulent to run your own biofuels plant? I guess I'll find out.
posted by jen at 6:50 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home