Mountain Lion Shit

Happy Friday, my Fantastic Follicle Farmers.

I am allllmost back to normal!  No seriously.  And I will be spending my weekend writing the 10 million things I have to write and, more importantly, reading all the 10 million blogs I want to catch up on in a completely creepy way because it is possible - quite possible - that I am approaching some level of lucidity.

And speaking of completely creepy and my lack of lucidity in the past two weeks, I have outdone myself. Outdone.

It is important to keep in mind, here, that I am a lunatic someone who prides herself on being able to entertain herself in otherwise boring situations. If an hour has gone by and I have not snorted at something then my hamster-in-a-wheel brain starts getting creative and determined to find a way to make myself snort.

Also important to this story, occasionally I get text messages from people (even though I've had the same number for 9 million years) who I don't know.  This, in general, brings out the inner artist in me.  Oh and my inner artist is a psychotic 5 year old who has had too much cotton candy laced with meth.

So Wednesday night, I had just wrapped up a conversation with my teenage Sister-in-Law Bubella about how her teenage boyfriend's phone number was publicly on Twitter and this was stupid, because something like that could literally entertain me for a month straight. So already, the hamster operating my controls was thinking about the weirdest possible things you could do with a new persons phone number.

After this conversation, I got a text 20 minutes later from a number I did not recognize except that it was from the DC area. In my Ambien fueled mind, there were two possible scenarios.  One, it was the sudo brother-in-laws number because we had just been talking about it.  Two, it was a DC friend who had not alerted me that they changed their number and therefor must be punished.

The following happened.  I would be in the blue.

Now at this point, after sending what was clearly in my mind the obligatory picture of mountain lion shit, I went to bed. Yesterday afternoon it occurred to me... Waaaaait a second, I should probably double check that this was, in fact, my sisters boyfriend who it's my job to torment when given the opportunity.

I was texting her about something else, and as an afterthought, double checked to see that it was him.

NOPE.

Cue the wondrous combination of absolute horror and uncontrollable laughter.

Suffice it to say she found this to be the funniest thing that ever happened and demanded an explanation as to why I don't have my own YouTube channel as my shenanigans are not to be believed when retold.

After a few hours I caved and did a back search on the number.

Turns out it was my High School sweetheart.

So, in the event that 15 years later he wanted to text me just to verify I was still batshit crazy, this was a successful mission on his part.  Don't worry, I explained myself nicely.

(Still haven't heard back from him).

In other news, the cyst is gone (I finally managed to kill that shit like a rabid puma) and minus this whole kidney infection on the way out, I am almost ready to go.

Sat down with awesome-sauce IVF nurse and I'm all loosely scheduled.  Egg Retrieval scheduled for first week of October.

I am nervous?  Optimistic?  Pessimistic?

And just for the record, here, if it doesn't work I will be calling you all at home, repeatedly, like so:

And you know I will as I clearly can't be trusted with phones.