Roller coaster

I thought I was doing better today--I took some stuff back to Macy's and managed to find myself the BEST COAT EVAR and it only has to be tailored a wee bit in the sleeve length, but I think it can. It was 360, marked down to 130, and I had the returns that more than covered it and this coat is HAWT.

Oh, and I had a little IUI visit today too. It almost didn't happen, which scared the pants off me worried me greatly. My appointment was supposed to be for 11:45, but when I got home from the grocery store (planning to make Moroccan Chicken with Dried Apricots, yum!) at 10, I heard a message. "Um, hi, Kari? It's Heather, from the Doctor's office. He has an emergency surgery at 11:45, and so..." ACK! They wanted to reschedule my appointment for... 9:45. Uh. Shit.

Doubly shit because if it didn't get done TODAY, this month's clomid and crazy hormone rollercoaster would be for nuthin. Which--awesome.

I called them, though, and was able to get my appointment rescheduled for 10:45 which meant I was hurtling out the door, frantically calling A on his cell phone trying to get him to pick up pick up pick UP! I like having him at these appointments. It feels stronger, less clinical, to have him there. Plus, there's the end of each appointment where the doc tells you to just lie there for fifteen minutes and then we just get to talk, which is comforting and cozy and intimate and almost erases the weirdness that came occurred just before it. But the bastard didn't know the apointment was rescheduled and he chooses NOW to not be surgically attached to his phone? REALLY? I'm the only one who's allowed to be flaky with a cell phone in this family!!!

I managed to call the office, and after spending some time in Voice Response Unit Purgatory, where his extension didn't work and everyone else is out of town for Christmas, I finally got through to Emily, the temp front desk assistant. Here I was, barelling down I-84 (why do all my IUI stories involve me hurtling, barreling, and in general throwing myself at high speeds down major highways?) trying to get A on the line so that he can meet me, and I'm trying to describe him to a temp assistant so she can drag his ass to a phone. "He's tall? With... brown hair? and... uh... " I can't for the life of me remember what he was wearing this morning when I dropped him off at work. "... and he's tall?" Fortunately, Emily The Super Temp manages to find him and wrangle him to one of those new-fangled telly-phones. We agree that if he walks down to Burnside, I can pick him up mostly-sorta on my way to the clinic. Miracle of miracles, this bootstrap planning works out and the appointment goes off takes place painlessly.

Maybe this will be the one. Maybe.

So I manage to drop A back off at work, go to Macy's and find this kick-ass coat (and there's still money left on the giftcard! Shazam!), do a few other errands, make a tasty crockpot dinner, go to a hair appointment...

...and by the time it came to eat said tasty dinner, all the enthusiasm has dribbled out of me left me. Part of it was in response to an email that rubbed me the wrong way, like a lot of things are these past few weeks. Part of it was a discussion with A at dinner that just left me feeling a little sad and a little angry (not at him! it wasn't a fight, it was a discussion about a situation where there's no good solution. I hate those kind of situations. I prefer those situations that have solutions, frankly). And part of it is... maybe it's just that I'm tired.

But now, as I sit here and write the sum total of my day, I find that remembering the quick turnaround on my morning, how much I got done today, all of that, I feel a little better. In fact, I felt better until I got to the part where I tried to explain why I didn't feel enthusiastic anymore and then remembering why I didn't feel enthusiastic drained me again. Does that make sense?

So I guess the upshot point is that I can force myself to keep my spirits up if I focus on the successes and quietly put away the things that make me feel second-best. So maybe, after all, I am doing better. It is, after all, important to keep your sense of humor.

Roller coaster, anyone?