We also have very sucky news going on. Hubby was rejected from yet another job because of his health. Regardless of having the stent placed in his heart, just because he's had a heart attack it apparently puts him at too much of a risk to hire, especially if it's company policy to provide benefits. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. It's even suckier than the past many, many months, because he's actually doing pretty awesome at the interviews; being told when he should come in to start, being given all the paperwork to fill out for new employees, and passing the special tests and training. Then they see the health section of his form and they're like "Actually, we can't hire you. Sorry." The last one was particularly hard because it was a lengthy process, something he had been visualizing himself doing for years, and after passing their special exam thing, he actually asked the supervisor present if his heart attack would affect the process. She asked someone and got back to him, insisting it shouldn't matter, and of the three people that passed, even though he was the most qualified, he got a call the next morning being denied the job for reasons they couldn't state. Bitches. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.
Also, the ten-year-old+ little fridge we've been using has officially died as of yesterday morning/the night before that. Everything we had in there has spoiled and we now need to work around my pregnancy taste buds, constant hunger & weakness, as well as the fridge issue when considering food. We can live on dried and canned goods, sure, but I'm usually the one doing the cooking and hubby is pretty overwhelmed with things like that, especially given the current situation. I was all hyped up to get back to work and start working in a daycare to get out of the house, occupy myself, and bring in some extra cash to pamper doggy, plan for superbaby, and do other miscellaneous things, but with my health as sucky as it is, no one will want to hire me, and hubby is now terrified to let me out of his sight. No joke.
I went to the kitchen to make myself a pot of coffee a few hours ago, and two minutes later he swung open the bedroom door, staring at me all panic-like, trying to catch his breath, and then said "You should keep your phone with you in case of an emergency."
"Okay" I said.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything? You should come inside." he says.
"Coffee," I said, pointing to the kitchen, "I'll be done in a minute."
"Okay" he says, and runs back in the room to bring me my phone and follow me into the kitchen, by which time I've already strained my coffee and turn around to head back into the room.
"You're done? Are you ready to come back in the room? Do you want me to hold it?" he goes.
I kid you not. He thinks I'm too fragile to hold my own cup of joe you guys. "I got it. Let's go" I say.
He walks behind me the entire way back and stands and stares at me all worried-like as I get back into bed. I KID YOU NOT.
All this sucky stuff is freaking him out. You'd think it would freak me out too, being the Queen of freaking-out-ness that I am, but I actually find it quite amusing. Before I got married, people generally treated me very crap-like. I was the one to go over to someone's house and without being told anything or saying anything, I would take it upon myself to start cleaning and take over with the kids and their homework/projects, watch and feed the pets, and if the host was okay with it/insisted, cook meals and wash clothes as well. If I couldn't clean or do some kind of work for them, I would feel immensely awkward and avoid eye contact and conversation until we left. When I was ill or in need of any kind of assistance, everybody would bail. My parents raised me to be this way and to expect such responses from people. Taurus man taught me otherwise. I cried almost every day when I first got married because I was so touched by how much he cared. I was not to clean up after anyone but myself, and only if I wanted to and felt like it. Nothing was expected of me. Every chore I insisted had to be done, he would ask me to teach him so we could do it together. We cooked together and ate together, instead of me cooking, serving everyone, and eating while doing other chores. It was pure bliss. Of course the newlywed thing faded by the time we had been married for a year, but he has never stopped insisting that I take it easy and relax. He always puts me first and makes me feel so frigging SPECIAL. How could he get any more concerned or caring than that? Apparently he can. It's so sweet. Which is why as much as I'm bummed that he's so stressed out, I find this quite amusing. Sometimes I just want to stop him and get all high pitched and go "you are so frigging CUUUUUTE!" but I have a feeling that would mess with his testosterone, so I don't. But seriously, you guys, he is so frigging CUUUUUTE.
So I haven't done any actual organizing, but a couple hours ago I was watching HGTV and I was inspired with this idea for a nursery storage closet. There was nothing remotely close to that going on with the show. They were actually ripping out carpet and installing hardwood floors, but hey. If it was inspiring, it was inspiring. There's a kind of nook in the right hand side corner of the room we're intending to turn into a nursery. The first thing Taurus man and I built together was a kind of pantry/dresser type thing to occupy that nook. He had discussed tearing it down and putting a door there and using it to store diapers and other storage/bulk items we'll need when the baby comes, and I was a little hesitant to tear down a piece of our history, but I was hit by this idea and I think preggo-ness and dust allergies aside, I should be able to help with it, thus making a new part of our history. I won't post the actual pic I made on Paint, which is uber hard to use by the way, (I'm so skilled, aren't I?) until hubby takes a look at it when he wakes up. I did it on the laptop, but shared it on our homegroup (guess who paid attention when Taurus man was talking tech-talk?) so he could access it on the computer and sent him a facebook message as well explaining what exactly my Paint skills were trying to portray in case pregnancy brain hits when he wakes up.
I know I haven't made any actual progress with this oganization thing, but man, my fancy schmancy Paint picture made me feel SO accomplished. I'm on my way to something you guys. I don't know if it's a new kind of indirect procrastination or if it's a new kind of indirect progress, but it's definitely something!
**Later edit: Here's my super hard work on Paint. Taurus Man thinks it's a brilliant idea and is a definite go!
We'll basically be building a closet for storage and also use it as a shoe/coat closet. That thing on the door is a custom made shoe rack with space for umbrellas I intend to make once I get my sewing machine. I know, I know, it's just a closet, big whoop. HELL YEAH BIG WHOOP! I designed this thing! I'm so accomplished you guys. Unemployed and bored outta my mind on bedrest, but Paint-worthy accomplished, no doubt.
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