Just wait…

Things will be changing…

They’s be old…

This week was a rough one in the Nutcase household. With me having put my back out on Saturday, waking up Sunday not even being able to walk up right. If I had longer arms, my knuckles would’ve been dragging the ground as I stumbled around the apartment only to move from couch to bed, bed to couch. Poor B tried to help to the best of his ability but he somehow had contracted some sort of shit that decided to take up residence in his chest, hacking and coughing were his two best friends.

Monday got worse for the both of us. Thankfully, I was able to get into to see the doctor first thing in the morning but poor B had to help me shimmy to the car and get me in there without me screaming like a banshee and the whole complex think that he was killing me. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a car ride where I felt every single damn bump in the road and it was the equivalent of being thrown off of a ten story building. Got to the doctor in one piece and she was FINALLY able to refer me to the needle doc that will be giving me, hopefully, permanent relief via a really long needle. I am excited and scared. And, Hil, I haven’t forgotten your recommendations.

Tuesday, I was able to go back to work. And, I have to say that my coworkers are awesome. They’ve seen me hobble, not be able to walk, etc., and they were willing to help me as needed. They ROCK! (They are not reading this because they don’t know it exists but I’m putting it out there.)

The rest of the week was uneventful in the back realm but Mr. B was still progressing down the slippery slope of cold and into full blown bronchitis. Thursday he finally went to the doctor. FINALLY! Got his lovely diagnosis and five different prescriptions because he didn’t just get bronchitis, no, he had to go for full blown acute bronchitis. At least he doesn’t do getting sick half-assed.

Now, we’re here at home recuperating (but going to an Astros preseason game – which they won!) and just chilling. B is on the mend and breathing normally. No more sounding like a car that won’t start. And, me, I can sit up straight and give you guys more than a few lines of information. Feels great.

Take me out…

To the ballgame. Take me out to the field. I’m damn well going to get some cracker jacks! The Astros open in two days but we’re going to see a preseason match up between them and the Detroit Tigers.

I don’t care if I ever come back!

*side note: update on the back to come. Good and bad news*

Drained…

My brain is fried by the time I sit at my desk and start to give you bits and pieces of my life. I have all these little stories, experiences that I want to share but when I go to type it up I’ve dumped all gray matter onto the floor. It puddles around my chair and rolls onto the carpet and soaks into the baseboards below. I look at my monitor, peck at my keys and try to put sentences together that read somewhat coherent. Then I hit the delete key over and over again. And again.

Once I do concentrate and put words together, I feel that I should hit the publish button. But wait. I must have a grammatical error. I’m not a writer and will never claim to be one but I want you, my lovelies, to be able to enjoy it. I hope to give you more…soon. But, not tonight babe, I’m tired.

When I grow up…

I want to work in a cubicle farm of beige. I want to be distracted by loud noise and hit randomly in the head by objects thrown by coworkers who are bored and have poor aim. I am going to be able to walk through the mazes of cubes and always get lost when I’m trying to find a coworkers desk, trying to remember key points of interest, such as photos, crazy mugs and what-nots so I can find my way back to my beige loft.

While I work, I’m going to stare at a screen of numbers and move my mouse around on said screen clicking happily away and hoping that my solution is the right solution. When I’m not staring at the screen I’m going to interact with my peers and discuss said work and other worthless pieces of information. And when working, I’ll keep working until there is no sun outside because enjoying the daylight is not part of my idea of being a grown up. Finally, when I get home, I’m going to stare at my screen and write short tid-bits about my day as a form of communication. Yes, that’s what I’m going to do when I grow up.

Barely…

I’m alive. I know this because of the amount of pain that I’m in. Right now, nothing can cause it to go away. I’ll be back. Soon. When I can sit up longer than five seconds.

Yum…

An ounce of pancetta
Three cloves of garlic
One tablespoon of italian seasoning (Yeah, premixed…I’m sobbing – Fresh would be some rosemary, thyme and sage – all of mine in the fridge looked sad)
One teaspoon of red pepper flakes
One large can of crushed tomatoes (I prefer Muirglen)
One teaspoon of sugar
Salt and pepper taste
Eight ounces of cooked Capellini Pasta

In a deep sauce pan fry up pancetta until one-third starts to crisp. Add in garlic until soft and slightly golden. Add in crushed tomatoes, seasonings, red pepper flakes. Cook for about 10 minutes at medium heat. Add in sugar and season with salt and pepper to taste. Cook for five minutes longer on low-medium heat. Toss in pasta and serve with some great aged Parm!

Quick and delish…so delish, I forgot to take pics.

Pre-spousal abuse…

A car.

Windows rolled up.

An “Excuse me.”

Windows rolled down.

I’m not going to draw a diagram.

Dilemma…

Alright, I found TWO pairs of shoes that I want to wear with my gown. TWO! But, I can’t keep them both. I really can’t justify the cost and I’m not a girl that needs a plethora (okay two isn’t a plethora) of silver shoes.

So, I turn to you, my lovelies for assistance. I do wish I could show you the dress but since B, ahhh the lovely B, reads this blog on occasion, I can’t share. But, I will state “it swishes like a bell.”

Shoe #1

Shoe #2

Ummmmm…since I can’t find a plugin or seem capable of making it work, leave me a comment on your selection!

Stick it up there…

Okay, don’t ask…because I don’t know. But somehow I have an infection in my nose of the non-sinus kind. The treatment: STICKING Q-Tips with GOO up your nose. Why do I share? Because I care and I want you, my lovelies, to be prepared if you too get a non-sinus infection in your schnoz. And, dammit…it’s funny. Laugh away.