The Pre-Eggo Gifts

i received two very important gifts this week.

one was my advance for traveling expenses. woooo. dad and i will eat like kings on our trip.

the other was this lovely shirt from my bff. be jealous.

i am totally wearing this on the retrival day. i dont just have eggos, i have balls too.

"I'm so bad with the cash, I dropped the whole bag." Diddy style.

The best thing about letting the eggos go is the all expenses paid six day vacation in Florida. It is currently 76 degrees with a change of thundershowers in the afternoon. Life is so tough.

After all of this, what will I do with the eggo money? I have several ways in which I will drop this dough like it is hot.

1. Pay Bills

This is a stupid idea. I didn't go through all of this to end up not doing something fun with it. I shall designated a sixth of my total donation dollars to go to bills. Anymore than that would be ridiculous.

2. A grown-up sized iPod.

Long gone will the days of having to delete copious amount of music off my iPod nano in order to fit new music on. I shall have my entire library accessable. Yay!!! I have been waiting for this day since college started. I was just too cheap to sell out the $250 for it before. 

3. Taking the Sig O out to dinner.

He had to have his blood drawn and has to take antibotics sooooo I promised I would take him wherever he wanted in Sea-town to eat one night. Knowing him, he'll pick chicken teryaki. Such a cheap date.

4. Vacation

I am going to visit one of my friend's who is currently living in Africa. I know. Africa. I've never really been anywhere interesting so I'm going to follow my, "Go Big or Go Home," philosophy. 24 hour flight? Check. No running water? Check. Dirty Peace Corp volunteers? Check. Looking up required vaccinations? Check. Wearing culturally appropriate clothing? Check. Making my amigo take me to the beach the last couple days I'm there? Check. Having a fucking awesome adventure? Priceless.

5. Savings

Yes, I'm boring. I dedicate another sixth of my moolah to savings.

6. What's left over...

I'm going to get it all in dollar bills and dance in a room with it. Diddy style.

Eggtraordinary!

Thinking Thinking Thinking

I'm creating a family.

How lovely is that?

I love my family. I love the way my family loves me. I'm so glad that I get to make this happen for someone. I mean, I'm not a saint or anything like that. And by all means, it is really about the benjamins. I just like that there is a good side. I like that the eggs will grow up loved and cared for and really great at writing essays.

Awwww. Feel the love. Feel my soon-to-be-fatty bank account.

I spoke too soon...

Okay...remember when I said I was breezy earlier? YEAH. BULL-FUCKING-SHIT. I can feel EVERYTHING. If I am a little sad or upset, I cry. If I am angry, I get really, really mad...and cry. If I am happy, I laugh really, really hard...and cry. Cry. Cry. Cry. I am a big fat emotional mess who has to hydrate constantly.

This has been a huge adjustment. I have to keep reminding myself to not be such a Sally. Normal me would silently mock hormonal me.

I think my sig o is a little put off by my reactions to everything. He doesn't tip toe around anything...which may get him into trouble. For example, just because I'm upset does not mean it is a good time to point out, "I think this is the hormones talking." IN FACT, THAT IS THE WRONG THING TO SAY. Yes, my love, I am aware it is the FREAKING HORMONES that are making me emotional but this is the WRONG TIME TO MENTION IT TO ME because the feelings are still real to me.

Whew. I feel so much better all of the sudden.

Alright, me and the "the crazy" are going to pack up for the day and try to get ahold of ourselves.

A week and a half til I'm across the country in a warm, sunny city. Two weeks til the retrieval. Woo hoo!

And the weirdest thing of all...

I feel completely normal. Day two of shots and nada. No crazy. No bloating. No psycho. So far, everything is breezy and awesome.

 

I worry if someone comes over to visit my house, they'll think I'm a drug addict. My medicine cabinet is full of syringes, vials, alcohol wipes, Tylenol with codeine, gauze and a needle disposal unit. I feel a little like a one person pharmacy. "Holy shit. I looked in her medicine cabinet and she must be shooting up some stuff that will fuuuuuuuck her up!" Holy shit. No you moron. I'm trying to sell apart of myself for a sweet vacay and some spending cash. Get your facts straight, biatch.

Annnnnd today I got a note from my doctor. It's for the TSA. It basically says the following: 
Dear Airport Security People, Please let this girl pass through with her vials of drugs and needles. She has some perfect eggos she is going to schlep onto a loving family who will make sure they go to law or medical school.
Love, The Eggos Doctor.

Yesssssss. I'm excited. The retrieval is getting closer everyday!

Like a B O S S

I owned that injection appointment like a boss.

I didn't even feel the needle. Apparently, pretending that you are stabbing yourself with a dart DOES work.


While I'm biding my time before the injections begin, I am realizing that I am slowly starting to miss out. Want to go grab a coffee? No, because I can't have caffeine. Want to get a drink? Nope, if I due, the eggos future parentals will SUE MY PANTS OFF. Want to smoke some green? [Honestly, I would say no anyway] Nope, can't do it...there is a lot dinero on the line...and the eggos future parentals will SUE MY PANTS OFF.

You know who you should be feeling bad for? My significant other. He had to have his blood tested and he has to take antibiotics so I can give the eggos a good home. Oh, and some other dude is technically fathering a child of mine. You know what his compensation for all of this is? Nada. For his troubles, I'll take him out to some delicious chicken teriyaki after the eggos come out. I know what you all must be thinking: girl knows how to treat her man right...

Eggsellent.

That is one big FRICKIN needle amigo

The GIGANTIC box of hormones arrived at my door last week.In seven days, the eggos and the hormones will take over. They may or may not be responsible for knocking down buildings, stepping on cars, destroying bridges and other sorts of general havoc that can be unleashed onto the city where I live. I'm only partially responsible for my actions and emotions. Consider yourself warned and stock up supplies in the event of a disaster.

The hormornes came with instructions, a DVD and my injection schedule. Finally, everything is clearly mapped out and I am ready to roll. Ugh. The DVD was a bit much though. I had to watch this woman inject herself over and over and over again in the abdomen and then I had to watch the woman get injected in the tush over and over and over again by her husband. I have to go for injection training this week and even though I wanted to avert my eyes, I couldn't. "Insert the needle quickly, like a dart" and then in one painful motion, the needle was JABBED INTO HER SKIN like it was nothing.

Then I realized I should not be this much of a Sally about injections. Buck up. It's for the benefit of a lovely couple and also a benefit of your pocket book.

I'll report back on Wednesday regarding my training. I'll try not to be such a little bitch about it. Time to man the fuck up.