My youngest son has been bugging me for a few weeks to give him a haircut. Yesterday I knew he wasn't going to let it go when he told me he wanted "one of dose pointy haircuts -- like da fings ona dragon's head!" Today he has a mohawk. He's pretty impressed with it. I'm sitting on my hands in an effort to restrain from loading it with product. It's rather cute and I can see his pointy little ears now.
Other than that, I am majorly stressing over my Fertility Clinic appt tomorrow. I'm pushing for surgery and trying not to think about the [rather secondary] issue of my fertility. My anxiety has me worrying someone will say I have to wait a long time before I can have it done, or that it can't be done by scope and I'd need another laparotomy, or that I need more tests done first. I hate the unknown -- being in the dark just gives my imagination the freedom to go to deep dark places.
The weather shift this week has gifted me a series of migraines. My boobs hurt for no apparent reason and this makes me paranoid. Is it possible to get a yeast infection when not nursing? It feels the way I'd imagine one to feel, except that I never experienced one when they were being used for that purpose. On a related note, my 4yr old thinks that boobs would make cool milk-squirting machine guns. I'm don't know how to begin processing that through my cluttered head. He's.. imaginative. Oy.
For the very first time in my life, I am reading The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. I always considered it the domain of the freaky Dungeons and Dragons crowd in high school and, as such, avoided it like the plague. The line between them and me is now, I do believe, drawn on the other side of them -- and, having surpassed them in my freaky geekiness, I do believe it's time to read this and be done with it.
I'm hanging on for Friday -- heading to the Ex to check out The Trews.