Is it Friday Yet?

Wow.  Talk about a busy day.

I went to my doctor's appointment this morning instead of going to hell, oops, I mean work,  and he had this to tell me:  "Well, Holly, it could be a combination of things... We can go ahead and take out your gallbladder if you want..."

Yes.  That's exactly what I want.  I want to be gallbladder-less and perhaps maybe possibly still have this big ol' pain in my abdomen.  Jeesh!

I hate the medical profession sometimes (unless I've never seen you or been treated by you and then - I guess you're okay).

Then Johnny called Harry and said that the (stupid, incompetant, idiotic) adjuster okay'd us fixing our dishwasher and that if I made myself available the plumber would come today.

Needless to say I called into work and waited on the prompt and courteous plumber to come and fix my hot water, dishwasher AND fix the teeny leak on my main valve. 

I no longer have to heat up water on the stove and pour it into the sink - a feat that should guarantee third degree burns for my freckled apendages.

Then, due to day two of my "how much pressure can we exert on the brain before it squishes out of the ears" migraine, I laid down for a nap. 

Which was rudely interrupted by my office calling.  They needed to know how to print out a bill since my constantly MIA Office Manager had called in sick.  She had promised to be in by noon.  They called me at 3:30 because they couldn't get ahold of her.  My theory is that she stays up all night watching Home Shopping Network and ordering "designer" handbags that are such bad knockoffs that I can spot them a mile away.  And this is not an unfounded theory.  This is confirmed by the parade of UPS Brownies delivering crates of the cheap crap every day to her. 

Yeah - I helped my co-worker and I'll probably still get in trouble for not being there all day.  Oh well.  Fire me.  I'll stay home and NOT sit in an office chair all day while my creativity slowly dies like a piece of half-squished road kill on the highway of my steadily shortening life.

Finally I spent the evening with my sister and my niece - who has learned a new trick.  While we watched, she ran around in a tight little circle, her left leg flipping out everytime she picked it up and her butt stuck out.  She looked like a lame duck.  A lame, dizzy duck.  And then she fell off a chair.  Which would've been funnier if she wouldn't have started crying.  She wailed and whined while tears shone in her dark brown eyes. 

"WAAAAH! WAAAAAAH! Can we go for a ride, now?  Waaaah!"  The middle part was said with such clarity and calm that we all started laughing.  Which made her cry harder. 

Kids are funny.