Last week was The Week of 3 Wednesdays. It started out innocently enough. Monday came and went as expected. All the normal Monday-ish things happened like they were supposed to. Then I went to bed and woke up on Wednesday. It must have been Wednesday, because I had my doctor's appointment that day, and for many weeks those appointments have been on Wednesday. Thus, logically doctors appointment=Wednesday. I went on about my day doing my normal Wednesday things until about 8pm when I got a text from my sister B asking why I wasn't at dance. I almost replied "because it's Wednesday!" (dance is on Tuesday), but then I realized it wasn't Wednesday. Because that morning I'd had a similar conversation with my husband when I asked him why he was taking his guitar to work. He said it was because he had rehearsal that night. I said asked why and he said, "Because it's Tuesday." But I then went back to sleep and forgot the whole thing. Then the real Wednesday happened. I wore this shirt. 'Cause it's Wednesday!
Then it was Thursday, then Saturday and the week got all messed up and now I don't even know what day it is.
Ok, so in my attempt to become a better person through meal planning, I must take baby steps. It seems that the first one would be to plan some meals, then cook the meals and ta-da! There you go. Unfortunately, things aren't working out that way. I used to do this so well. When we first got married I had a spreadsheet and a database and all sorts of plans. Then... something unidentified happened. We got more social, or something. Now, meal planning is made difficult by 2 things. Thing 1: We're only home together to eat the same meal one night a week, and maybe the weekend. Thing 2: We're really bad at eating leftovers. So, when I do get up the give a squat to actually cook, I can never manage to just make enough for 2. Mostly because "enough for 2" is a very vague and changing quantity in this house. J can eat like a rhinoceros at times, but other times (when he's on his ADD meds) he barely has an appetite at all. All of this to say that leftovers happen. We should then take them to work or eat them for lunches or the next night, or on a pre-approved "clean out the fridge" night, but... we don't. We're just not thoughtful about it. We need to fix that. We need to become leftover people.
For a long time I've been trying to get my hair back to it's natural color in the dumbest and least-patient way possible--with dye. This is... problematic to say the least. What I remember my natural hair color being is... a weird shade of red. It's like the dirty blonde version of red. Dirty copper? I don't know. Anyway, based on highly technical things like pictures and the fake hair that perfectly matched the last time my hair was it's own color (5-6 years ago) I've been trying to get back to that, because I don't really feel like letting my hair color grow out for 3 years. I've resisted saying "just make everything match my roots" because they didn't look the right color. I know that sounds stupid, but they were too dark. My hair maybe gets lighter as it grows out? I dunno, but I remember having darker roots than ends for a long time, but the color in the middle is the color I think of as mine. But I finally got tired of all the highlights and touch ups and blah blah blah so I went in and finally said "just make everything match my roots" and... it was dark. Way darker than I ever remember my hair being. That was in October, days before The Blathering. I haven't had my hair colored since then. My hair is all still the same color. With some grey bits. SO... apparently the kind of dark-honey-amber-reddish color I remember is gone. Now I'm a slightly reddish brunette. WEIRD.
That looks awful!
There is something strangely comforting in hearing your doctor say those words. There's the validation of knowing that I'm not being a totally whiny brat. There is reason to be uncomfortable and I made the right decision to go see the doctor and have it checked out. On the other hand, it would have been nice to hear "Oh, yeah, we can clear that right up!" instead of "Oh... I mean... oh!" I adore my doctor, by the way, so... you know... she can say stuff like that.
Unemployed and Pregnant
So... the "BIG NEWS" of today is that I sort of, kind of got laid off. I mean, I'm a contract person, not an "employee" so it's a little different, and my contract is with Company A, who contracts with Company B, whom they bill to pay me. Company B terminated its contract with Company A, effective 2/25 (plus a 25 day "finish it all up" period). So... if I actually have work to do that whole time, that comes out to March 21st, which is only 10 or so days away from my due date, so that's not so bad. The thing is, work has been slow for a while. I haven't worked a 40 hour week in longer than I can remember, so the income that's coming in is already reduced. We've been making it work, and we will continue to make it work, but it's an adjustment at a time when I'd really like to be spending a lot of money on things for this baby to sleep on and what not. I guess it's better to have my income taper of gently rather than just abruptly stop. It does sort of answer the "will you be going back to work after baby?" question for a bit, since I won't have a job to go back to. Finding a new one as a new mom should be... exciting. I don't know yet if that's what I'll do. If we can make this one-income thing work and I can learn to be a mom who is at home, I'm totally willing to give that a shot. Still, I'm praying that J gets the promotion he just applied for. That would help a little.