You know how Mondays always suck balls? I swear, this past Tuesday really wanted to be a Monday, but just didn’t make the cut. It started off kind of good. The repair guys for our washer/dryer were here on time (and, in the early part of the two hour window I was given!), and they confirmed that the dryer isn’t the problem. Unfortunately, the vents in the walls need to be cleared, and it has to be done properly from the outside of the building, or else it won’t work. If they do it from inside our apartment, we were told that it would just push the clog further into the walls, and not really accomplish anything. Wonderful. Problem is, no one ever does shit around here. I phoned it in right away, and the lovely repair guys helped me to jury rig the machine so we can still use the dryer while we wait the million months for the complex to fix the vents. Master and me are sending a certified letter on top of the phone call, and if they don’t get anything done in two weeks (it’s a fire hazard for goodness sakes), then we’re going to go to the fire department. Heh. Master says “Well, we’re not staying here next year, why bother playing nice anymore?” I disagree slightly. I feel like we should play nice because we still have another eleven months we gotta stay here, but it’s his decision, so I honor him and it.
Then, you know, I had a little blow up with my Mom, who has been in victim mode for a long time about my Dad. I rarely get into actual fights like that, but it has been a long time coming. The frustrating thing is that my Dad has had Aphasia for eight years. She needs to step up and make some choices so that Dad can live a better life (as well as her), and she’s just not. “This is all coming at me at once!” she keeps telling me. No, it’s not Mom. You have literally had eight years to plan for this, and you’ve stuck your head in the sand and given up on trying. Good job though. :/
Master was late on his way home from work because he works near a mall, and unfortunately, it’s Xmas shopping season. Because he was late coming home, we were late going to PT. We had warned this new place that we would be a bit late, because the mall near Master’s work has been impossible to circumvent. They said that was fine, and that it wouldn’t be a problem. Great. We show up ten minutes late, and the physical therapist informs me that she can’t stay past six (we were supposed to be there at 5:30), and that we could either reschedule, or just have a super short appointment. When we explained the situation, apparently no one we talked to left a note in our file because we were back to square one: unable to get an appointment with a physical therapist for my jaw (you need special training for TMJ problems) because no one works at the times we need them to. What upset me was, at my preliminary exam no one mentioned that this would be an issue at all. I tried to be really polite, and I said that if we couldn’t do it, we couldn’t do it. But, that they should have been up front with me like I was with them. I’m not coming in for fifteen or twenty minute appointments. The physical therapist told me she felt bad and that she really wanted to help me, so that we should come in on Thursday and she would work something out so she could stay a bit later. I felt awful. I hate people having to make exceptions for me, but the physical therapist insisted. So, we’ll try again Thursday, I guess.
Then, we had to go to the post office, and mail a package for the Mewtique. Of course, the post office had been closed for an hour, so we had figured that there would not be a line at the automatic package center. But, there was. It took twenty five minutes to mail out our package. I guess we should have expected that.
At this point, I was limping pretty heavily and Master made the executive decision to bring me to Urgent Care. I did not want to go. I am so goddamned sick and tired of Urgent Care. I am tired of getting injured, and I am tired of going. More than that, I am sick and tired of dealing with this goddamned foot over and over. And, you want to know how I hurt it? Using it normally. I was walking along in the store with Master, and I felt a sharp pain, the toe itself got bruised, and it felt sharp whenever I stepped. Since it was the same toe that just had surgery, Master took me to Urgent Care to make sure I didn’t re-break it or anything. Luckily, it’s not broken! But, I have to wear a post-op shoe for a little while as the doc is sure I hurt a tendon. Of course I did. ::shakes head:: As a joke though, one of the assistants brought me that balloon you see up there. It says “Happy 100th Visit” on it. I actually burst out laughing, and it totally cheered me up. The fact is, even if I don’t want to go there, the people who work there really do care about me and I am glad that they are there when things like this happen. Still. Ugh.
We went home, and dinner didn’t work out, so we opted to buy pizza. We haven’t ordered pizza in a while, so it was a nice treat. After our pizza, Master and me had our first blood cupping session! I really enjoyed it, but I’m not sure if I’ll be writing about it here. Master took a lot of pictures but we may just keep them for our own personal use. I will talk to him first and see what he wants to do. Either way, it was a wonderful experience, and I really enjoyed being able to play with him after such a pain in the ass day.
Can I get a do-over?