Oh, and also? My cat barfed an intact rubber band.

What a stupid day.

I had a dream last night that my worst ex-boyfriend possible was having dinner at my mother's and I was there too. I for some reason had to act like this was perfectly okay, even though the whole time I felt terribly uncomfy.

So thanks, mom, for inviting worst ex ever over. You never even liked that guy when he was my not-during-R.E.M. boyfriend. Glad we could all have ham croquettes together.

If that weren't bad enough, I had to drive over to Monroe, which people pronounce MUNroe, to have a Lasik consultation. I finally decided to go ahead and do it, as I cannot see far or near. Talk about near, far, wherever the hell you are.

I know that my nearsightedness will go on. I can't see you if you're on fire, at this point.

So, I underwent a series of rather freaky and nauseating procedures (does anyone else get sick when they do that, "Which looks better, one [flip] or two? Two [flip] or three?" thing with the eye chart?), and after feeling like I'd ridden the Octopus and was on the verge of a seizure with all the lights they flashed at me, the doctor told me I have thin corneas.

Well.

My abdomen is distended like I have kwashiorkor. Each strand of my hair is the width of penne pasta. My nose is as bulbous as WC Fields'. But my corneas? Oh, those! Why, those are thin as can be!

The only thin thing on me is THE THING THAT'S SUPPOSED TO BE THICK!

So, because I have these Hollywood-starlet-thin corneas, he did not recommend Lasik, but rather this ablation procedure, whatever that means, (I told him he could not tell me any gory details) which costs the same but HURTS MORE.

After getting over the blow of this info, he went through many details, and we were just wrapping up when I said, "So, the day of the surgery, I'll get Valium and a sleeping pill. I can pretty much guarantee that I'll get a migraine from the stress. Will my Imitrex interfere with those other pills?"

"You're on Imitrex!?" he exclaimed.

Guess what? Imitrex (a migraine medicine) TOTALLY interferes with the measurement of your eyes. So I have to go off it for two weeks (hah!) and get those measurements ALL OVER AGAIN.

So here's why I decided not to get this stupid procedure. (A) The Imitrex was written on PAGE ONE of the info I filled out. This doctor clearly did not read my chart. (2) There is no earthly way I can go two weeks without my migraine drug. No way. And (B.1.7a), I really can't afford this.

Which is why my day got even more depressing.

I hate being poor like this. I thought I wouldn't care that we are making so much less money here. I thought it wouldn't bother me in the least, as long as Marvin Gardens is doing something he liked.

Well, guess what? Turns out I am a shallow gold-digger. I LIKED saving $3200 every month like we did at the beginning of this year. We can't even afford to buy a house in this dinky little town! I am 42! And a half! And I can't afford a house. Or Lasik. Or really, a trip to Wisconsin for Christmas, which I already SAID I'd do and really, really can't afford.

I came home from MUNroe crying like a banshee. I do not even know if banshees cry. They scream, don't they?

I wish I would have taken that copy editing job in Winston-Salem. Then I would not have to be a blind, thin-cornea'd, houseless, poverty-stricken loser who has dinner with her ex at her mother's house.

Crap.