Nothing

I’m sure it’s obvious by now that IUI #1 was a bust or clearly I would have been on here silently squealing days ago. We’re semi on hold treatment wise until May due to timing/scheduling issues.

In other news I’m leaving Monday for a week in the woods with my parents and my uncle & his girlfriend at their “cabin” which is not really a cabin but more of a fancy house in the woods with a hot tub. My agenda for the week includings drinking alcohol, sitting by the fire (hopefully it will snow to add some atmosphere) reading, knitting, I might take a nap (!!!!), and there’s a hot tub – surely 4 people in their 60s won’t judge my lack of working out and over indulging in depression fueled sweets for the last few months right? It’s okay to put on my bathing suit and soak.

The problem is that now that I’m going to ‘allow’ myself to knit & read leisure stuff for a week I’m kind of freaking out because I can’t decide what yarn I want to pack or project I want to do. I don’t think I want to take something for someone else and am completely torn on projects. I’ve spent the past two days polishing up my resume  and writing a cover letter to send to my top-choice-company to work at post graduation because I got a direct ‘in’ contact of who to email with my information. I’m trying to keep in mind that I’m totally awesome and they’ll surely want to hire me – but optimism is really not my strong suit. Cover letters might be the lamest things on the planet to write.

“hello, here is my information portrayed in a professional and stuffy manner, can we just skip the formalities and you’ll hire me? I’m awesome I swear.”

Hubbin isn’t coming to the woods because they idea of sitting around for a week with nothing to do – while sounding devine to me- sounds like it might be physically painful for him. He and my MIL were going to go on a trip together but ended up not agreeing on a destination and thus are staying home. I’m glad to be getting away. She’s irritating me quite a bit. It’s like we have a teenager in the house again. She’s not supposed to go up or down stairs without help. (because she’s a ridiculous fall risk – between her broken arm, bad knee, cane, macular degeneration, & vertigo – just to name the highlights) and any time we’re both out of the house for more than 20 minutes she’s sneaking up stairs to screw with things in the living room/kitching/dining room. Hubbin said last night “I feel like we need to get a door to lock her down there cause I can just see her falling down the stairs, being paralyzed and then her stupid sisters who don’t want to help take care of her pointing their fingers at me and bitching I didn’t do enough to protect her”. It’s not that she’s broken something of mine – or moving important things. It’s the little things like you’re cooking and go to get the foil out of the drawer – and it’s not there. Or you go to get a mug for your coffee and all the mugs have been moved from the cabinet in the kitchen to a drawer in the dining room. Or you come downstairs and see that the brown outlet covers have been changed to white and there are screws missing. Or you leave a receipt on the table incase you want to return something and come back and it’s gone. *gaahhhhhh!*

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