Why do We have To work??

Well, the past few weeks I have been seriously irritated with my "dream" job. As most of you know I thought I would love to have my own flower shop some day. Well, after I quit teaching (definitely not my dream job) I found a little shop to take a chance on me. I didn't have a lot of experience, but I was eager to learn. As some unfortunate events unfolded over the last 3 months I ended up spending A LOT of time in the delivery truck, which was not fun at all. Today, I decided I could not handle it anymore. I thought I was working in a flower shop to learn how to design, not to drive around in once of the worst vehicles imaginable. I think our van was a 1949 Chevy Astro, it was old, ugly, and hot, but it did have a radio :) So, after I did 30 something deliveries yesterday and then got reprimanded because I took too long I decided this was not the job for me. I kept holding out for them to hire a delivery driver, and they did, but she didn't even last one full day. So the responsibility fell mainly on me. I might have been fine with this if we had a delivery driver schedule so everyone in the shop had to deliver, but that never happened. So, about 20 minutes ago I sent an email quitting my job. I know it's tacky to do it via email, but I am a wuss, what can I say. So if you know of any job openings let me know.

Worst Haircut Ever...

So I have officially had the WORST haircut EVER. I am so depressed about it. Al and I went to the baseball game on Friday and I saw this girl with a super cute A-line cut. So this got me thinking that I would get my hair cut. I knew the A-line wouldn't be cute on me and besides Al hates short hair on girls. So today at work I was cleaning up the front of the store and I found some coupons for a new salon. A girl I work with gets her hair cut there and she has been really pleased. So I told Al I was working late and I would be home shortly. I wanted to surprise him with my new cute "do." The guy (1st time I ever had my hair cut by a guy) seems trained and pretty good. So I tell him I want something new, but I didn't want my hair too short. He seemed to understand and off he went...things went smoothly at first, then I felt the back of my hair and I started to panic. He kept cutting and cutting and cutting. He then styled it and I saw the full damage. I told him I liked it and I was in such a hurry to leave because I didn't want to cry. All I could think about on the way home was how Al would kill me. Al was pretty supportive because I called him before I got home to tell him how depressed I was. He said it is shorter than he would like, but it is "not that bad." I am not going to take a picture, but I look like a girl oompa loompa. My one positive is that my hair smells nice. If anyone knows of a good place to get extensions let me know.

My Dear Husband...

I should start off saying that I love my husband to death. He is a great person, treats me well, and he loves me. Sometimes though he can be a pain. I go to the doctor a lot. I seem to be one minor health problem after another. It's never anything serious, but I do go to the doctor a few times a year. Well, my dear husband doesn't go to the doctor very often. I feel like I have to force him to go when he is sick. But, when he gets sick, he gets really sick. For example, we'd been married a few months and his legs were bothering him. He thought he pulled a muscle, but it kept getting worse, so finally I talked him into going to the hospital. We spent all night in the e.r. when we finally got back and had a chance to talk to the doctor they almost laughed that we were there for a "pulled muscle," but they did some blood work and come to find out he had about 800 times more than the "normal" enzymes level (or something like that) in his blood. They admitted him and he spent nearly 9 days in the hospital. It was awful.
So back to the present...yesterday we were sitting in the office working on stuff and he kept complaining about his heart. Being the compassionate person I am I told him it was just heartburn or acid reflux (that put him in the e.r. last year) and to go take some medicine. Well, it didn't get better and he seemed to be in quite some pain and we decided (after reading of the internet) that he had some symptoms of a heart attack. So, off to the e.r. again. He had his vitals taken and the triage nurse assured us it was nothing and told us we would have to wait 6 hours to see a doctor. I was pretty frustrated and irritated. Well, she ran and EKG just in case. When she brought back the printout she showed me all the abnormalities and told us we had been moved to the front of the line. I sure felt like a bad wife for having doubted him and making him wait to go to the hospital. Well, we get to the back and they are so full they had to examine him in the hallway. We never did get a room, but they put a note on the white board above Al's head so they wouldn't forget why we were there.



After multiple blood tests and some other tests they decided nothing was wrong with him and sent us home about 9 hours later. I am glad Al's ok, but he can no longer complain about me going to the doctor.

It's About Time

I keep getting invited to view all of these blogs, so I have decided to start one for Al and I. It's not that we have an exciting life, but we do have a lot of loved ones far from us. So, I decided this would be an easy way to keep in touch and let everyone know what we are up to. More importantly I never like to be left out of anything as most of you know, and I don't want to be left out of the world of blogging :) So welcome to our blog, sit, read, and enjoy your time here.