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Okay, this constant exhaustion is getting REALLY annoying. I haven't gone one day since the hysteroscopy without taking at least one long nap, and I haven't been able to work worth beans. It could be the sign of an underlying condition that's also causing the high blood sugar levels, or it could be a manifestation of the high blood sugar itself. (On the plus side, the cats are happy when I nap on the couch under a comfy blanket, because they get to curl up with me... no cloud that doesn't have a silver lining, apparently.)
To top it all off, today is a blah grey day, which is never good for my energy levels.
I did get a call back from my doctor, though. They had a cancellation for tomorrow afternoon at 1:20 pm and are able to fit me in. Hopefully he doesn't turn up something alarming -- or decide to put me on insulin. That would truly suck.
Oh, and some dragons who need clicky love:
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I'm about to try to get some HB done, but am not exactly holding out high hopes of accomplishing a lot.
As for yesterday's entry about Twitter and Burma-Shave... follow the link.
IF YOU DON'T KNOW
WHOSE SIGNS THESE ARE
YOU CAN'T HAVE
DRIVEN VERY FAR
BURMA-SHAVE
And then there's The Burma-Shave people undeniably had a sense of humor, as the following story from http://www.backwoodshome.com/articles/waterman37.html reveals.
Perhaps the company went too far with the following rhyme spoofing science fiction and curiosity about outer space:
FREE - FREE
A TRIP
TO MARS
FOR 900
EMPTY JARS
BURMA-SHAVE
The manager of a supermarket in Appleton, Wisconsin, took up the challenge and wrote to the company asking where he should send the 900 jars for his free trip. The company sent back the following reply: “If a trip to Mars you’d earn, remember, friend, there’s no return.”
In reply, the enterprising supermarket manager accepted. He turned the project into a fantastic promotion for Burma Shave that had children and adults swarming the supermarket. The promotion included no less than a rocket plane on display and little green men on the roof firing toy rocket gliders into the parking lot.
It was decided by the Burma Shave company to send the manager and his family to Mars. The real destination was to be Mars, Germany. (Even though it is spelled Moers, it is pronounced Mars.) Again, the publicity was enormous, especially when the manager showed up wearing a silvery space suit and a bubble on his head. The company, of course, provided him with extra jars of Burma Shave so that he could barter with the Martians.
To top it all off, today is a blah grey day, which is never good for my energy levels.
I did get a call back from my doctor, though. They had a cancellation for tomorrow afternoon at 1:20 pm and are able to fit me in. Hopefully he doesn't turn up something alarming -- or decide to put me on insulin. That would truly suck.
Oh, and some dragons who need clicky love:
/ / / / I'm about to try to get some HB done, but am not exactly holding out high hopes of accomplishing a lot.
As for yesterday's entry about Twitter and Burma-Shave... follow the link.
IF YOU DON'T KNOW
WHOSE SIGNS THESE ARE
YOU CAN'T HAVE
DRIVEN VERY FAR
BURMA-SHAVE
And then there's The Burma-Shave people undeniably had a sense of humor, as the following story from http://www.backwoodshome.com/articles/waterman37.html reveals.
Perhaps the company went too far with the following rhyme spoofing science fiction and curiosity about outer space:
FREE - FREE
A TRIP
TO MARS
FOR 900
EMPTY JARS
BURMA-SHAVE
The manager of a supermarket in Appleton, Wisconsin, took up the challenge and wrote to the company asking where he should send the 900 jars for his free trip. The company sent back the following reply: “If a trip to Mars you’d earn, remember, friend, there’s no return.”
In reply, the enterprising supermarket manager accepted. He turned the project into a fantastic promotion for Burma Shave that had children and adults swarming the supermarket. The promotion included no less than a rocket plane on display and little green men on the roof firing toy rocket gliders into the parking lot.
It was decided by the Burma Shave company to send the manager and his family to Mars. The real destination was to be Mars, Germany. (Even though it is spelled Moers, it is pronounced Mars.) Again, the publicity was enormous, especially when the manager showed up wearing a silvery space suit and a bubble on his head. The company, of course, provided him with extra jars of Burma Shave so that he could barter with the Martians.
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