THE PITFALLS OF BEING IN "IT"

So it is the eve of my surgery...I had to swing by my parent's house to have my mother sign as an alternate agent on my Health Care Proxy Form. You know, what to do if I end up a vegetable, etc.

Well, a few days ago their computer was hit with this new worm that is circulating the globe. So while I am there I am having questions fired at me about why their Quicken Files won't open anymore.

*sigh*

I love my parents, but I am having surgery tomorrow. I am also new to IT and we haven't quite covered "fix the brand new alarmingly destructive viruses" yet. I did not need to be tech support tonight. I've got to eat my "last meal" before the procedure, I've got to get to bed early - I really, really don't need this right now.

The last time they did this to me at an inopportune moment - the eve of my wedding.

Mom and Dad and I may need to have a chat about this.

Anywho, I'll return to blog world post-surgery and hopefully with less endo in my body. Until then I would really like to get FAR away from computers, thank you very much.

Adeiu.

QUATRO DE MAYO

I forgot to go out and enjoy those Margaritas and Coronas I promised myself. Can't today, to close to surgery. Whoops. I'll just have to celebrate Cinco De Mayo next year. No biggie.

I'll live.

BURBERRY, TAKE ME AWAY.....

I am so mad right now I could scream, except I won't because I don't want to bother the neighbors. Monday night TV is the worst, and I was getting snuggly in bed to settle for watching "The Restaurant" (side note: I can't STAND Rocco. I watch the show because I am DYING to see him fail, that arrogant ignorant idiot.) I digress. Anyways, Rocco was preempted by the conclusion to "10.5," the made for TV movie about a massive earthquake swallowing California. No thanks.

So I was flipping around, looking for ANYTHING amusing. I stopped on the Fab 5, but only for a minute. They kind of bore me, but I love that their wardrobe is all Burberry and since Burberry is my achilles heel....in fact the only thing that made me stop on Bravo was the momentary "are those BROWN Burberry pants on Jai?" ANYWHO, I finally landed on a program which was discussing Endometriosis. PERFECT, I thought to myself, and put the remote down so I could settle in and be educated.

The problem is that I apparently didn't notice the crucifix on the wall in the background.

This "expert" begins to explain that endometriosis is generally caused by women "waiting" to try to conceive until they are in their thirties, and by then the damage is done. "Ideally," she insisted, "women should not wait. Really you need to have a baby when you are in your twenties, otherwise you are asking for trouble."

"You BITCH!" I shouted at the TV. Anthony paused the Red Sox downstairs and shouted up "Who are you yelling at?"

"This Catholic Asshole on TV! How dare she judge me!"

I am so mad right now I could scream.

You see, I am damned if I do and damned if I don't with these people. Apparently, I should have had a baby when I was in my twenties - when I was single, poor, and too emotionally immature to handle it? Jesus....

I know I should tune it out, which I did by switching back to Bravo, throwing the remote on the bed, and storming into the office to write. I need to get it out so I can chill and get some sleep. Here I was so happy that I stumbled upon some programming that I thought could be relevant to my current life, some educational program that could help me. Now I am just breathing heavy and full of rage.

I'm going back to bed now, even though I find it boring, I know the Burberry wardrobe on the Fab 5 will at least cheer me up a little. High fashion ALWAYS cheers me up.

I'm such a girl. Someone, please, remind my reproductive system of this fact.

TODAY IS A GREAT DAY - I'M JUST A BITCH.

All right. I've calmed down a little. Today, after all, was a pretty good day.

We finally signed the P&S for our new house. Now it just needs to be built. We even filled out MOST of the selection sheets, so I can stop agonizing over all these little details. I can't believe the degree to which some of these decisions have been driving me bananas. We had 2 choices for the "style" of our shutters. I picked one style and for 3 weeks have absolutely been convinced that I made the wrong choice. WHO CARES? We're talking about shutters. Today, that choice is finalized. No going back now, I need to get on with my life.

Then of course I changed the ONE detail of our new home that Anthony picked out - the color of the vinyl siding. He told me that, overall, he thinks that I have good taste and he is comfortable with me selecting everything - every single detail was up to me to decide. Everything except the color of the vinyl siding - that was the ONE thing he picked out on his own. So of course, this morning before we signed the P&S I drove down our new street where many of our new neighbor's homes are in various stages of construction. I "convinced" him to switch to a vinyl siding color of my choosing, beautifully displayed on a completed home at the opposite end of the street. I am absolutely unbelievable. "Granite Grey," I argued, "is just too dark. Dark colors make things look smaller, and we don't want our new house looking smaller than it really is, do we? I vote for Sterling Grey." Anthony agreed. Or did I strong-arm him? Either way, I took away from him the one single detail in the house that was his. And he doesn't even seem to mind. God, I love him.

Anyways, maybe I am being so overbearing about the house because it is one thing in my life I currently have control over. Can't seem to figure out how to make a kid, but god dammit I can throw together the most beautiful freakin' house you've ever seen. I mean, I've got us paying for extras here and there that are the most miniscule details, but when the whole package is put together, it is going to be awesome. Perfection. Ah, yes, this I have control over. My own body? No. Where my body lives? Yes. This must be why I have so completely dived in to the process.

It may also explain why I was such a bitch when the signing was all done. I was snapping at Anthony in the car ride all the way home. We had to make a side trip to drop off an application for my mother and I to participate in a large Christmas fair in November. Yes, the application is due May 1 for a CHRISTMAS fair. They even have a jury to decide whether or not you'll be "allowed" to sell your products, if they deem us worthy. F' them. (Unless of course they accept us! Then I will sing their praises!)

Anyways I started being really bitchy to Anthony in the car on the way home - practically picking fights with him. We walked into the house and he retreated to the bedroom. Couldn't get away from me fast enough. And how could I really blame him?

Then I called my mom to tell her the application was dropped off. My dad got on the phone and they were asking about how the P&S went. I was still in my bitchy mood and my head hurt and I REALLY, REALLY, just didn't feel like being chatty. "Boy, you're in a great mood" my mom said. Dad said "Aren't you supposed to be happy? Celebrating? Today is a great day, you're building a house!"

"I have to go lie down. It is a great day, I am just tired and need to rest - it was a draining process." I hung up the phone.

I suspect I know where the bitchy-ness came from. I am not mad. I am terrified. With the P&S to focus on, I haven't had time to focus on Wednesday. I am terrified to have surgery. I am dreading it something awful. I know it is "routine" and I've blogged on this topic previously, but I guess with all other formalities out of the way there is not a lot to think about or focus on and I can't avoid the subject any longer.

I am scared. I am scared of the pain and the recovery process. I am scared that I won't make it through and they'll have to tell Anthony I died on the table. I am scared that they will botch it and I will lose my uterus or part of my bowels.

Most of all, I am scared of being so close to THE ANSWER. I've replayed the words by now over and over in my head and I am so afraid that I am going to be one step closer to the words actually being spoken out loud.

"Ms. Corrado....I'm afraid its worse than we thought. I'm afraid it will be impossible for you to ever get pregnant. I'm sorry."

I'm so scared of the possibility of that, and terrified of what that means for me, and Anthony, and for the rest of our lives. That Gerber Baby commercial with the slogan that rings so true, "Having a baby changes everything" - well I've got news for the Gerber people, not having a baby changes everything too. It changes lifelong plans. It changes lifelong dreams. It changes the meaning of everything in my life.

Hey, didn't I start off by saying that today was a GOOD day? I think these long, ranting, depressing blogs are the results of having to face my fears about Wednesday.

And, the good news is I am agonizing over whether or not to put white or black marble tile on the floor of our full bathroom. I can always keep using our new house as a distraction.