Has Everyone Taken A B-12 Shot Today?

The new year has indeed hit the Shauna Z household at startling speed. Within minutes of inching-out of bed, the doorbell rang. It was the Lab Nurse (aka Vampire Nurse) to prick my skin for the blood level monitoring I must endure for what I've been told is a very long time.

Gee, thanks, former Blood Clot! Not only have I been required to curb my intake of any foods laden in Vitamin K (which had been 90% of my diet until recently and thickens the blood), I have to take blood thinners for freakin' ever! That puts quite a crimp in alcohol intake, now doesn't it? One would think blood thinners and alcohol are the same thing, so what's the problem? In short, it's not exactly the same thing. To be brutally succinct: Huh?

Anyhow, following Vampire Nurse's departure, I forgot that in the middle of the night while completely sober and unable to sleep (probably because I was "completely sober"), I ordered a rather large grocery delivery for early this morning. What, you ask? Delivered groceries in Los Angeles? Yes, indeed. It's one way I pretend to be living in Manhattan, and another way to ensure I can feed myself and furry friend without having to drive through the winding hills while treating my weary hip with care sitting on a fluffy pillow.

So, of course, having forgotten the order had been made, I returned to the laptop for my morning reading rounds. Doorbell again. WTF? Peering through the door's window, I saw the familiar van of my favourite delivery service in the driveway. Well, well. Aren't they efficient? 

When the smiling delivery guy left with his New Year higher-than-usual-tip, I put everything away and returned to my Woman-Cave (hey, why can't wimmen have their own special places, too?) where I again attempted to catch up on the day's news. Doorbell again.

This time it was a gardener the home's owner had called to fix the sprinklers. My, these people are really on top of their 2012 schedules. Just as I was shutting the door so that Mr. Sprinkler Man could do his work, another large van pulled into the driveway. Huh? Oh, right. The screen- and door-fixing people were arriving to handle a problem with one of the sliding doors. I thought they were to arrive later in the day. But, okay. Everyone else has been here and if not early, then right-on-time. Have at the door! C'mon in. 

Back to the dark little hovel at the end of the house went I...only to hear what has now become the latest soundtrack to my life: the absolutely, utterly deafening, sounds of more electric-wood-sanders and overly-laughing-at-who-knows-what construction guys still trying to make what must be a piece of fabulous art out of rebuilding the next door neighbor's crushed multi-level wooden decks. Three months and counting. At least they're finished with the jack hammers. And, of course once more, they are obviously on time for their job and certain to drive me crazy for the next 6 hours.

Why don't I leave the house, then? Well, there are two strangers roaming the property right now to fix things. I doubt it would be a smart move to take a walk-limp down the street. I mean, I would probably run into someone I know who would ask me where I've been over the months and then I'd have to go into the events since last August.

Exhausting. And by now, completely boring to explain.


You thought I might write about the Iowa Ruckus today? Particularly because the Mad Men of the GOP are in what many deem to be a neck-and-neck race to win that state's odd way of choosing their presidential hopeful? No way. I'm too busy trying to stay focused on my own sanity. With Rick Santorum in the three-way non-lovefest, I'll simply wait until the results trickle down. After all, that's the only trickle we'll be seeing if the GOP gains political ground - again - this year.

Until tomorrow.....