It's Pronounced "Ass Effects" People. A Two-fer Plus Some, Lucky You

The Dolls and Mr. are traveling to St Louis for the weekend.
I’ve never been Home Alone.
In. My. Life.

The opportunity kinda makes me wish I still drank, that I had friends, or that I wasn’t Serious About Dieting.

I wish that Naked Time didn’t elicit suicidal thoughts.

Pajamas-All-Day is not a huge departure from the norm and thus not a Big Deal.

I can’t NOT make the bed and clean the kitchen.
I won’t stand for clutter.

I don't have a good book going. I've seen all the good movies.
I’ll be forced leave the couch to let the dog out.

There’ll be homework.
And laundry.

I’m thinking about ironing.

I might Shave All The Way Up.
For no reason.
(Or for his Return…)

Still. I wish there was something a little self-indulgent to enjoy while I’m free of parental responsibility.

This weekend marks the Fourth Annual Father/Son Cards game.
The guys have added a football game to their yearly Daddy ‘n Me shenanigans.

Funny Boy (Darling SIL) plays on various teams throughout the year. Last year Mr. played on Bring an Old Man to the Park Day.
Later on, and for days afterward, Mr.’s knees complained to his legs that his back is too old to carry his shoulders. Henceforth he is sidelined.
Be satisfied with spectating, Old Man.

The sisters (Dolls and Darling) will spend some quality time together.
There will be playing of SIMS, eating of garbage, taking of pix and staying up late.

I’m betting on a trip to Creve Coeur Park.
Maybe shopping.

There might be swimming. That could mean diving for M&Ms, which brings to mind the story of Darling and the Band-Aid, which I don’t share because it’s not my tale to tell.

It disgusts/embarrasses her.
I would never mention that she put a Band-aid in her mouth cuz I’m Classy Like That.
Classy like every time I spot a discarded Band-Aid I point it out, with commentary.
Yep; Classy Like That and sympathetic.

I wonder if Dr. Atkins planned his adherents would lose weight via diarrhea.

I am Serious About the Diet again.
I didn’t want to go phlabby to Phantom but I wasn’t motivated ‘til something New and Exciting came on the horizon.
It made me take it up a notch.

Let’s just say when The Band sends code to their roadies saying; Bring the Hot Broad to the bus, we need a Bandmom, I don’t wanna be 145#.

I’m going to see Anberlin!

And I’m Seriously Dieting.
Di-e-ting.

Before leaving for last summer’s vacation I was using a record-setting number of medications (as per paragraph two, line four of “Ready, Set, Go.”)

I was taking five different prescriptions in a steadfast effort to eradicate, alleviate, or compensate for some aggravating health problems.

It was one of my New Year’s Resolutions to take more meds. I’m a Go-Getter/Goal-Setter/Master of Achievements, so I didn’t balk, not even at the $200 Aciphex price that wasn’t covered by our insurance.
Sure it’s expensive, but it’s fun to say; Aciphex.
Aciphex.
It didn’t help a lick.

I had horrible heartburn, annoying allergies, and my gall bladder was grievous and bloated. I felt like I had Tiger Balm inside my head, and a football tucked under my ribs.

Viola! I felt better while we were on vacation. The same thing has happened in years past. I’ve convinced Mr. that I’ll be the Picture of Health when he retires and whisks me away to low country.

This week it dawned on me; I go off the low carb diet when we’re in South Carolina.

Effing Atkins.
If he knew we were gonna shart ourselves thin why not jump straight to Alli?

Hearing returned to my left ear almost three weeks ago. (Well, my normal amount of hearing.)
For me this means a serious flare of Meniere’s is less likely. That’s been my history, but Mr.says I rewrite history. I’m a revisionist, he says.
Whatev, I says.

I’m NOT moving forward with the second appeal to Health Alliance. Thus far the complete lack of action on my part was indicative of my hopelessness.
Since I haven’t had a serious flare in many weeks I shelved my worry. And all forward motion.

I still believe that Dr. Shea’s treatment is the solution. I believe my symptoms will return in the spring (as per the aforementioned history) and I know that the nature of Meniere's means I could get Seriously Sick in seconds.

I believe what Scarlett said when Rhett stormed out, “Tomorrow is another day,” which is the procrastinator’s mantra and pretty much my motto.

And tomorrow -- I’ll be Home Alone…