So, to quote myself from my last post “It can ALWAYS get worse”, and guess what–I’m not f*cking kidding about that. Mr. MLACS has a big diesel truck that is the apple of his eye, and yesterday his clutch was being impossible, and we had to accept the fact that…on top of EVERYTHING else…we are going to have to repair or replace his clutch (anywhere from $500-$1500). That was really the last straw for Mr. MLACS. Another gem is that his company (for whom he is invaluable on their multi-billion dollar projects) is nickel-and-diming us on our last move–they want US to pay off the $3000 on his expense account for our move…in what f*ing universe is that acceptable?! This is on top of expenses we paid out-of-pocket AND we lost a MONTH of wages because their HR pulled him off his old job and didn’t have his Visa ready to go to his new (international) job–that completely screwed us over after we had only JUST gotten on our feet after the LAST move (which they also screwed us on). It’s maddening, and we are both sick of this BS from this company. Thing is, he has stayed with the idea-in-mind that he was fast-tracking it to management$$ and other companies can’t offer him the salary. But I had to level with him: it would be better for him to take a pay cut and for us to stop losing money on moving, than for us to continue this way…and it’s hurting our relationship–the stress of moving causes fights…the money situation creates tension…I’ve given up several jobs due to the moves…overall, we’ve got to make a change. And look at us–we could try naturally this month but that’s not an option because his work switched his schedule and he won’t be home. It hurts Mr. MLACS that his 5 year plan is being blown to smithereens, and that the company that he’s given his blood, sweat, and tears to (literally he works from before dawn until well past dusk–he’s got stamina) is still so quick to f*ck him (us) over. And then he’s also devastated that I’m not pregnant. And he’s concerned about the money (me too) that we’ve been shelling out for these IUI’s–with Dr. Angel giving us false hopes by saying “watch out for triplets!” it makes ZERO babies a harder pill to swallow. And really the last 18 months have been SO much drama, with his last project being a nightmare and the miscarriages and me being sick, etc. and it has FINALLY caught up with Mr. MLACS (it “caught up” with me LONG ago, and I’m burnt to a crisp) and he said to me, with sad eyes and quivering lip “I just want it to be done…I just want it to stop…I’m tired of EVERYTHING being SO HARD”…and for once I comforted him. It will be ok. It really will. I’m glad he just gave in and allowed himself to be vulnerable so that I could show him that I can take care of him too–we take care of each other. And we have been like peas ‘n carrots.
What else…been packing up the house to move. We are moving to a new unit that is exactly like ours but in a different building (one street over in our development). I don’t really mind moving and setting up house all over again (ok, YET) but packing is no fun. And that reminds me–maybe I had an intuition that this was going to happen and maybe that is why I was so disgusted with all the “stuff” I got for Christmas–what I wouldn’t give right now to have the money instead of the stuff, because now I have to do something (pack or donate) all the stuff I got, and it would be a brilliant time to have gift certificates or money to use for the expenses of this ordeal–maybe I just knew in my soul that all hell was about to break loose and maybe that is why I was so disillusioned with Christmas (far fetched but interesting, eh?)
Also, it’s SO much fun packing when you’re having some of the worst cramps of your life, right?! No, no it’s not actually. Today is CD1 and I am in PAIN. I took a Soma a little while ago and drove Mr. MLACS to go pick up (gluten-free) pizza for dinner, and I was driving like a ditz but for the first time in…oh hell who knows…I felt pretty damn good! Mr. MLACS and I have had some good laughs today. It was maddening:
1. Get up, eat breakfast and go to our apartment to continue packing and wait for the maintenance guys to assemble to help us after lunch
2. It starts pouring rain. We decide to take some of our stuff to the new place. The driveway is a mess of ice/snow/slush. The garage is being used as storage for the maintenance guys and they’ve yet to clean it out. Uh…
3. We are informed that we will postpone the move until Monday, we are told the hotel will not be comped tonight but we are invited to stay in one of their model homes until then…but it’s already PAST check-out time at the hotel…seriously?!
4. We RACE back to the hotel to plead with them not to charge us for tonight. They agree (whew!) I trick the cat into his carrier and we lug everything (and kitty) through the rain and load the car (again), Hillbilly style. The cat commences to scream, because he HATES car rides. Awesome.
5. We go buy liquor for the maintenance guy and wine for the management–they have been helpful and a little PR goes a long way.
6. We go the the model home to settle in and…it’s actually COLDER inside than it is outside…Mr. MLACS messes with the thermostat while I let kitty out of his prison. Turns out, the thermostat doesn’t work! We call management and sit there and wait for the maintenance guy–who comes and informs us he’s got to replace the thermostat, then leaves.
7. F*cking figures. We sit there shivering and then make the executive decision to return to our old apartment–where there’s heat and cable tv. Ambush kitty AGAIN and both of us get scratched in the process–I don’t blame kitty, because this is BS.
8. Return to our apartment–they’ve removed the noisy fans–we breath a sigh of relief. Kitty is happy to be in his familiar home.
9. I commence to call doctors to see if my appeal has gone through for my meds yet (as we’ve been spending all sorts of money out-of-pocket) and…nope. I made an appointment with a new GI at a well-respected hospital about 2 hours away (same city where take Mr. MLACS to the airport). Dr. Angel was supposed to have called in a script for me but Walgreens says they don’t have it, so I call Dr. Angel’s office to report CD1 and to ask about the script. Dr. Angel never calls me back, and I begin to wonder if he hates me for being such a needy pain-in-the-ass. Mr. MLACS calls about his truck and they haven’t even looked at it yet. (*&^%#@$
10. I have SO many things I want to do, places I want to go, people I want to see, and DEBT I want to pay off. I’m fully committed to the idea of getting a job (preferably not full time) and I perused craigslist. There’s some medical office stuff I’m interested in. Everybody has been RAVING about Dave Ramsey (financial guru), so I talked to Mr. MLACS and told him that, though there’s a lot of things I want to do, I’m wiling to commit 100% to getting our finances in order in 2014 if he’s willing to make and stick to a PLAN with me (because goals mean sh*t without a plan in place–he’s an engineer so he should understand that you have to plan life goals just like you have to use a blueprint to build a house…but he’s a guy and he hates directions…I digress…). For my contribution, I want to get a job so we can save up and do some fun stuff, while also paying our debts (credit card, medical, etc.) AND, I can still go take night classes even with a day job (though I’m not taking classes yet–planning to start in March).
11. Here’s some good news: My Grandma’s breast cancer is Stage I, and she’s scheduled for a lumpectomy at the end of this month (an outpatient procedure) and then radiation for a month. This is GREAT news!
12. A couple of my blogger friends have offered me their leftover drugs. For this I am SO grateful and I just cannot even thank them enough. Seriously, I’m sure I don’t deserve their kindness but I’m in no position to refuse. Bless you, thank you, R. and Steph.
13. I feel SO FAT. Like, I looked in the mirror in the horrible lighting of the hotel bathroom and was almost moved to tears. How did THIS happen?! I was already not on top of my game due to all my health issues, but these last couple of months of hormones have just…the cellulite…my friend (who hasn’t seen me) asked me if I wanted to do a boudoir photo shoot with her–make-up, hair, everything included (for her portfolio) and I had to be like “GURL, I don’t even like pictures with my clothes ON”, but it made me SO SAD because when she saw me 18 months ago during my wedding, I looked and felt AMAZING! I am going to be a bridesmaid in two weddings coming up and intending to attend a baby shower (yes Steph I want to look good for your baby shower) and I feel like an absolute TROLL. I’m really ready to reclaim my body–why can’t I be one of those women (like you Steph) who takes the hormones and sees absolutely no change in her weight or attitude?! Instead of morphing into a ‘superhero’ I morph into a ‘villain’ (fat and evil) and it suuuuuucks. Plus, I was starting to get on a role but this whole flood/moving thing just ruined it, and now I have to start over again. Uhg.
So…finally my cramps became unbearable and since I can just sleep in tomorrow I did myself a favor an popped a Soma, then Mr. MLACS and I went and picked up pizza–we were going to dine-in but the place was like a daycare with no supervision where all the kids are high on pixie sticks–kids were screaming and running circles around us while we were in line, so we took it home and ate it on paper plates (cuz my plates are packed). The drugs and the (gluten-free) pizza are a nice end to a stupid day (Stupid WEEK).
Thank you ladies for your support–I’ve been b*tching A LOT lately–I hope you get a laugh or two out of my rants and lamentation.