Boobapalooza

 Whew, 5 months! That's my longest gap yet - I guess this blog is slowly seeing itself out. That's okay - everything good must end sometime.

But not yet!

I'm up late tonight because I'm not scheduled to go in for my new-boobs surgery until almost noon tomorrow (well, now that's today, really). I figure it's better to go to bed late and sleep in, rather than get up with the sun and sit around and wait and NOT EAT ANYTHING. That makes sense, right? 

Medicinal, guess why

New boobs, guys! I was scheduled for early February but lost that surgery date due to COVID, which was sort of a blow. But hey, it's warmer weather now, which means I'll be able to wear my wonderful pajamas during convalescence without freezing to death. Silver lining!

And Larry doesn't have a broken collarbone this time - bonus!

[My inner Pollyanna is obviously working overtime here. It's a compulsion of sorts, I guess.]

But enough about my boob surgery, let's talk about being unemployed, because that's fun, too. You know, you'd think it would be easy to remain detached while applying to one or two jobs a week for, oh, MORE THAN THREE YEARS, but after a while? The whole process does bad things to your psyche, zero stars, do not recommend. Still, in January, I finally landed 2 interviews, and I was all "Jackpot! Hurrah, my ship has come in! Persistence pays off!" and I was busy planning my schedule and eyeing my work wardrobe, because why not count ALL the chickens before they hatch, right? 

Dear Reader, no one wanted me to work for them [insert sad trombone sound right here, thanks]. That, plus the surgery being postponed (THANKS COVID), sorta broke me, so I've been sitting here mostly moping and knitting for, oh, 3 months now. Also, buying more yarn with all the money I'm NOT going to be earning, which makes a heck of a lot of sense, I know.

Pictured: FIVE knitting projects, all at once

But hey, it's only a matter of time before me and my new boobs will be making our way back into the job market and I'm sure we will just be killing it out there, no problem. In the meantime, I've still got my one shift a week at the Container Store, which is more like being paid to go to the gym with friends, what with all the lifting of boxes and carrying of boxes and climbing ladders and talking we do -- so much so that I pretty much forget I HAVE a job of sorts.

It really is a ridiculous amount of fun, except for the getting up at 4 AM part. Yeah, 4 AM, ouch.

So what else is happening? Well, there's a grandbaby of mine out there who is doing an excellent job of getting fatter and learning to make cute baby noises, and aren't you happy now that this blog has always had a "no personal pictures" policy? No danger of my spamming you all with dozens and dozens of baby photos, whew! 

Theo and his wife quite rudely kidnapped my grandchild to Florida for 3 whole months this past winter by using a combination of parental leave and remote work, KIDS THESE DAYS, so we didn't get to enjoy her much until they came back in March. Larry and I (thinking I'd be having surgery in February) did hop on a plane and fly down to see her for a few days in January, and as Larry buckled in he said, "This is weird - I'm not on business and no one is dying." And I said, "You know what is weirder? We've never flown together before, ever."

So there we were, Ma and Pa Kettle, getting on a plane JUST FOR FUN as though we were fancy folk or something. Seriously, it was hard to wrap our heads around the whole concept.

At least we didn't try to take the auto train, right? So that's progress.

Florida has weird signs

Florida was disappointingly chilly, but we stayed in a cute Airbnb walking distance to town and to a really good BBQ place, and we saw the baby, so we considered the whole trip worth it until I started coming down with COVID the day we flew home (apologies to the nice gentleman sitting next to my double-masked self on the plane).

Judging from the photos on my phone, it seems that Christmas did indeed happen here, complete with a tree and food (including cranberry bread, of course) and presents. I vaguely recall an unfortunate almost-incident between Anna's dog and Uncle Matt's dog, but things were otherwise festive. 

Anna has no rules against posting doggo photos, I believe

I bought a gingerbread house kit for a Christmas Day activity but no one here wanted to be fun, so I hung on to it for 3 months until I could convince a neighbor to take it. I told her that she could tell her kids it was the Easter Bunny's house. I mean, sort of, right? Just squint a little...

Throw some jellybeans on that roof and you're set

Okay, great to type at you again, but it's already 3:30 AM, which is insane. Good night, all, and see you on the other side (I hope)!