**I had this post ready to go up this morning, but evidently someone at Blogger was asleep at the wheel and I only got the "spinning explanation point of death." I know I was not alone, you should have seen the message boards!
Well, the descent is well underway. I had been reluctant to say how well I had been doing since the cessation of my thyroid medicine. I didn't want to jinx it. For a couple of weeks, I was doing okay, though. I had visions of myself crawling into the bed in my dark room and not coming out until the scan next month. But I was doing surprisingly well. I was in a pretty good mood. I was keeping the house, well, if not clean, then at least it wasn't a pit of garbage, rotting food and dirty laundry. The morning that we left for the wedding, I had put the last load of laundry in the dryer. Yes, for one brief and shining moment, all of our clothes were clean!!!
Maybe it was the wedding that kept me going as long as I did. But now that we are back, the laundry is piling up, there are dishes stacked in the kitchen from dinner last night, and I am sinking into the couch. My skin is dry, my hair is falling out, my nails are brittle and my heels are cracked. (Can you spell T-M-I???) Oh, and I have gained about twenty pounds in the past five weeks. I now weigh what I did when I went into labor with Bug. Delightful.
Okay, I suppose I am doing better than I could be at this point. I attribute this all to the new crazy pills. And I only had two migraines last week, which is monumental (Of course I have now jinxed that. No post till July, just watch). I have been at least making an effort to do the dishes and laundry. Only, I have had to wash a couple of loads twice since I occasionally (zip it, SD) forget them and they start getting funky.
I couldn't possibly do this without SugarDaddy, who is there to prop me up and take up the slack when I start to get overwhelmed. But honestly, I don't have time for this. I have boxes to go through, crap to get rid of, and clothes to sort. Our movers will be here in five weeks. And I don't want to move that crap again. YEESH!
Speaking of which...we are trying to ditch our old, sad couch. I love this couch, but, it's time. It's got holes worn in it and it's heavy (sofa sleeper). We are very close to our weight limit and the Air Force charges us a dollar for every pound we go over (I suppose that they charge everyone a dollar a pound, except, in this instance I really only care about ME...big surprise). So, every move comes down to, "Is this worth a dollar a pound?" And honestly, the couch is NOT worth eight zillion dollars (approximate measurement, my bathroom scale doesn't go that high...yet).
I also want to unload that butt-ugly entertainment center of ours. No, it is not worth a dollar per pound. However the corollary to that rule is "Can we afford to replace said offensive piece of crap after we have moved??" Well, the answer to that is, evidently, a resounding NO. At least not replace it with anything less offensive than the one we already have. *sigh*
All along, the plan was to just give away the damned thing and buy a new one as soon as we got to Texas. Until we bought that house. The house that has pushed us to our financial limit and has eliminated my budget for a maid (and I was so looking forward to her!). So, maybe if we can't sell the thing, sitting in my new hot tub will ease the burden. Care to join me?? You know that there will be margaritas in the fridge!
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