Stop diagnosing yourself via WebMD and go pack my suitcase for me.

Time is literally crawling today.  Crawling like a small toddler who hasn't quite gotten the hang of things yet.  Unacceptable.  I spent my morning trying to solve a frustrating issue at work.  Then, I spent my lunch break on the phone with CVS Caremark trying to explain to them that they've messed up my prescriptions for the jabillionth time.  I'm so over them.  If they didn't control the distribution of my precious migraine drugs, we'd be having a nasty break up.  This CVS drama has been going on since October 1.  In case you're counting...that's a month and a half.  I want to punch a pharmacist in the face right about now.  Now I just have to make it through a little over 2-ish hours at work and then go home and race to finish packing so that Mommy Dearest and I can hit the road to Gatlinburg.  We are spending the weekend at at jewelry/accessories expo and then doing some outlet shopping.  Hopefully I will come home with some new pretties to show you!

I'm cranky.  I have things that I need/want to be doing right now, but I can't.  I probably should have done them last night but I was busy watching Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, and playing with my iPad.  These are all valid activities, but that meant that I did not pack.

Here's another reason why I'm cranky.  I've been minding my own business today.  Out of the blue, I get a chat message from The Ex.  I haven't heard from him since he called to tell me Happy Birthday (the day before my birthday because he had plans on my actual birthday and, heaven forbid that I be an inconvenience).  I actually haven't even really realized that we haven't been speaking.  He sent me a message saying that he'd been in the ER today.  That sucks.  Why is he telling me?  Go call your girlfriend.

The Ex: Was in the ER today.

Moi: Are you ok?

The Ex:  I messed up my knee.  It's all torn on the inside.

Moi:  How did you hurt it?

The Ex: I don't know.

Moi:  You're in enough pain to need to go to the ER, and you don't know what you were doing when it happened??

The Ex: I worked out 2 weeks ago and it started hurting a week later and it was really hurting this morning.  I sleep in ball and it locked up and when I stood up this morning, it made all these cracking and popping and tearing noises.

Moi:  My knees always sound like that.

The Ex:  I need an MRI but no one will give me one.

Moi:  They aren't candy.  They don't just give them out.  You need a referral from a doctor and you have to schedule an appointment.

The Ex:  They did an X-ray but you can't see torn ligaments on it.

[Yes, genius.  You are correct.  BONES show up on X-rays, not muscles and ligaments.]

Moi:  I wouldn't jump to conclusions if I were you...

He's a hypochondriac.  Bless his heart, every time he gets sick, he thinks it's the plague and that he's going to die.  He is always looking up his symptoms on WebMD and that's never a good plan.  He called me one time (after we'd broken up) and told me he thought he had cancer.  He said that when he was in the shower, he found a lump on his man bits.  I tried to keep him calm and urged him to see a doctor if he really thought it was serious.  I told him that it was probably nothing and that it could just be a swollen lymph node or gland or maybe he just had bumpy bits.  He cried and argued and complained and moped.  He finally went to the doctor.  Here's literally how that went...

The Ex:  [Gulp.] So, Doctor...what is that lump on my testicle?

Doctor:  Um, son...that is your testicle.

The Ex:  Oh.  Okay.

I laugh every single time I think about that story.  Typical him.  However, there was one time I accused him of crying wolf and he was actually sick.  He had a bad case of Mono and an ear infection and got so dehydrated that he was admitted to the hospital overnight.  He used that one instance as basis for all of his medical woes and assumptions.  The guy was right once and got a big head about it.  Anyway, I feel bad that he's hurting, but why tell me now?  Thanks for randomly messaging me so that I will take pity on you.  Sorry that it didn't work this time.  Get well soon, but I kinda don't really care how soon that is.  Now I sound mean.  This is just the crankiness talking.  Kinda.  I'm sure he will update me later because he probably thinks I'm holding my breath.  I'm not.

Sending grouchy feelings your way,

A