"Your lungs aren't crackling but we can do a chest x-ray anyway." What?
It was a really frustrating appointment. First, not an appointment -- I went to the clinic at 4pm and did not avoid all the moms and kids and elderly and other sick working-types and all of them coughed in unison in the waiting room for an hour and a half.
So, yeah, my lungs aren't crackling, which means probably no pneumonia. He offered the x-ray anyway, saying it could show stuff that he couldn't hear. So I kept asking "Do you think you need to do that?" and he kept repeating "We can if you want to."
And he offered me the blood test for mono, which functions just to let you know you have it, because there is no treatment for mono. Besides what I am already doing: avoiding alcohol (by falling into a bottle of tasty chardonnay last night); getting rest (which is not happening this week); and getting vitamins.
Mostly it was good to hear he couldn't hear liquid in my lungs or crackling or any of that.
Anyway, I am a knitting fool, I am bringing two dresses to STL because I am like that, I bought new flats which are lovely and painful to wear. By the end of the first day wearing them, I felt like I might have plantar fascitis in my right heel. Then I took them off and I was okay. It's back to the good Clarks boots and SmartWools today, recovery wear if there could ever be recovery wear from dress socks and unsupportive flats.
The new Knitty is up; if you follow my link on the right to 'the patterns!' you'll see it. This is a major event four times a year. Trust me.
Work is calm and yet swirling, swirling beneath the surface. I learned that half our editorial team might be leaving by the end of this year, with two of those five people a 'maybe' and three for sure (there are 12 of us; we're tiny). And we're at workload capacity, so that makes me think immediate promotion to the two dedicated AEs who would be left ... like me ... one can dream. Dream dream dream. Then I would be in a position that grudgingly allows telecommuting, which I would want to try maybe, at least until getting my bearings in our new town wherever.
Our landlord agreed to raise rent by $25 and no more. Yaaay nice landlord! He is really nice, super nice in fact. A bit odd, with all the complimenting me every time he sees me (without Noah) by saying something like "a pretty blouse for a pretty lady" or a variant on that safe old man with charming phrases thing.
Today is 'let's start a colony on a farm with lots of hills and sheep and alpacas and bread and gardens' day. Is that what your dream colony is like? How different is it? Is it, by chance, urban and not farm-ish? Let me know. It's a dreamy day.