I am rolling my eyes so much at my mother. This happens every single time something good happens in my life. She's concerned that I'm not excited enough about my new job. She's giddy about it, and she doesn't understand why I'm not. She's known me for 34 years, and still hasn't figured out that I really don't do giddy. (Well, OK. If someone outside the family suggests that there's something wrong with me because I don't seem excited enough about something, then she'll say, "No, that's just how she is -- she's just like her father that way." But she never seems to remember that when she's the one getting concerned.)

I'm sorry, Hil. I run into the same thing with my mother every time she goes with me for an ultrasound for the baby. I'm too busy being worried that everything is okay to get giddy.

Good for today: Last iron infusion, hopefully for a good, long while!

Bad for today: The new medical supply company screwed up as expected. They couldn't get through to my doctor's office (they had the wrong phone number) and instead of calling me when they ran into a problem (as they promised they would). They did nothing. So, I read them the riot act today, and I should have a free box by tomorrow while they straighten out their mess.

My mother is the understated one. Sometimes it's hard to read, but you remind me there's a lot to be grateful for about it.

Medical supply companies always blow goats. It's why, though this chair has been flimsy and unsatisfying I'd almost rather ride the broken shards than buy a new one.

My mother just called me to ask what Nando's is.

TCG is even more understated than I am about things.

Medical supply companies always blow goats. It's why, though this chair has been flimsy and unsatisfying I'd almost rather ride the broken shards than buy a new one.

Hell, yeah. I desperately need new crutches, but do I want to deal with the insurance company AND the medical supply company? Nope.

My mother just called me to ask what Nando's is.

It’s like when you and the lads have just landed in heathrow after a week getting wankered in magaluf. Someone probably got ‘chris’ tattooed on their arse cheek cos chris is an absolute fuckin ledge. You ride the bantmobile all the way back into town for a cheeky nandos before everyone goes home so their mums can wash their #ladsontour shirts you all had made specially. Fuckin top notch.

Bravo, Scola.

(I didn't write it)

Yeah, that's the link that I'd posted in response to when she asked on Facebook, but she got the notification for my reply but couldn't see the actual reply, so she called me. Because it was apparently that important.