I slept like a rock last night. It might have had something to do with all of the Advil and Tylenol I took after working in the yard all day yesterday. My body was screaming out in agony telling me that either I am severely out of shape or that I am meant to be a lady of leisure. I’m going with the latter.

So in my drug induced REM state I had a dream that I was waiting for an elevator. I dream about elevators a lot and there is always something wrong with them. Sometimes they stop half way so that I have to jump down into them or crawl up to get inside (I am always afraid of getting cut in half if the thing starts moving unexpectedly) and I’ve even had dreams where they go sideways or up on an angle. I am sure Freud would have a lot to say on the matter, the old perv would probably tell me this means that sexually I am off balance and he might be right. I did check out some websites on dream analysis and apparently if your elevator is going up and down it means your sex life is boring, if it goes down you’re heading for a crash and if it just goes up you’re on the fast track to wealth and success. The Otis in my dreams is always going up (though whether or not my elevator reaches the top floor is debatable) but it’s always awkward to get on it for some reason. While it would be lovely to suddenly be wealthy and successful I’m not sure that it’s accurate especially given our current state of economic despair. Maybe the dreams are trying to tell me that with a little effort I can reach the top or another higher level of consciousness. Or maybe if the elevators symbolize vajayjays it’s a sign I am on the right path career-wise. The hoo-hoo will take me to the top?

It was test week this week and I didn’t have to study for either of them. I am way past due for some new specs so I went to the eye doc to get my peepers checked. It had been four years since my last check-up but only my left eye has changed and very slightly at that. They have this camera thingy that takes a picture of the entire eyeball and then he brings it up on the screen magnifying it to the size of a basketball. I get a little excited about stuff like this, I ask a lot of questions about what things are and what they signify. I am sure I annoy medical professionals with all of my queries.  There is a mole on my left eye, how bizarre, I didn’t know such a thing was even possible but it was cool as hell to see it. He said it’s no big deal unless it grows or changes and it’s no different than the ones on my skin… assuming that they are not melanoma. He also put the drops in to test for cataracts but I promised him I don’t have a cataract, I have a Ford. *slaps knee* I left his office with the new script and dilated pupils that had me feeling like a Japanese cartoon character.

I also went for my first mammogram. I was supposed to go for this when I turned 40 (unless there is a history or lumps to worry about they don’t suggest getting the first screening before 40) but I am lackadaisical about booking anything medical (see four years between eye exams) so I kept putting it off. I know now however that as far as procedures go, this one was a walk in the park. We have a mobile breast unit (you’re totally picturing a giant boob on wheels aren’t you?) that comes through here every six months to screen the more rural populace so we don’t have to travel three hours to get squished. They set up the machines in the hospital ER and book appointments via an 800 number. They asked all of the basic questions over the phone so when I arrived all I had to do was fill out a short form and wait for someone to tell me to take my shirt off. It was like high school with more paperwork. The tech called me into the room, confirmed my identity and had me strip… slowly and with purpose. Ha! She adjusted me in the machine and squashed me first down and then across and that was it. My appointment was for 9:50am and I was back in my car by 10:00. It could not have been easier and I highly recommend it. There was some slight discomfort due to the pressure (also like high school) but the worst was that it was cold in the room.  I am happy to announce that my girls bounced (hung) back into shape however and that my c-cups did not become c-cubes. I think it’s the first time I ever flashed my tits sober to a woman.  Seriously though, if you or a woman you love is over forty please have or get her to have a mammogram and for the record, nobody knows a woman’s breasts like her partner so here is a great opportunity to cop a monthly feel… just make sure you get permission first and don’t offer to perform the exam on strangers.  You’ve been warned.

And speaking of puppies…

A client has a papillon who got busy with the neighbor’s pomeranian/mini pinscher. The litter was born a few days ago and she wants to give them away (once they are old enough of course) and she offered me one if I’d like. My dog is nine years old, her hip has been bugging her and we know that this is just the beginning of old age and we have to start preparing ourselves for the inevitable. My husband always said we should have a five year dog plan, if we get a new pup every half decade then it won’t be so hard when one dies, there will always be more so it will be less devastating. I’m not sure if I agree with that part necessarily but in theory he might be right. I can’t really imagine not having a dog but I don’t ever want Mika to think she is being replaced or that we love her any less. This is precisely the reason why our son is an only child. I also have fears that this could be a really ugly mix of breeds… which was slightly less of a concern with us having more kids.

And finally…

Another Trixie moment.

She’s been telling everyone that when she moves out here everything will be better and that it is my responsibility to teach her the way of the boonies and make her life peaceful and enjoyable in the sticks.  

I said “So you want me to be your personal Yoda?”  
To which she replied “Yeah and I’ll even rub your belly for luck.”
I was pissing my pants as I said “That’s Buddha!”
She gave me a confused look and said “So what do you rub on Yoda?”