Home Improvement + Clomid

= bad, cranky Librarian.

I’m on day three of Clomid and the upping of the dosage plus all the added stress of demoing the kitchen and finding lots of things that need to be fixed (oh, what’s that? a leaky pipe that’s led to mold on the drywall? and over there-rotted subfloor? Deeelightful) is leading to me being less than pleasant.

Yesterday I logged on to order our countertops I found out that all the 8′ pieces had been purchased and they were out of stock until late November. They still had 12′ pieces though, and I had to wait and wait for the transfer from the HELOC to go through to my bank account (I requested the transfer on Monday, but stupid Columbus Day got in my way). Anyway, I was finally able to order the beautiful countertops and take a deep breath. Then I went on to pack up the kitchen and discovered droppings of some rodent in several of my cabinets on one side of the kitchen. I immediately called Chief and told him that he would be responsible for packing those cabinets because I was NOT running the risk of seeing a mouse. After that I called our pest control company to set up a treatment (we’re due this month anyway). Librarian loves animals, but not little mousey ones in her house.

So then we start demoing last night, yada yada yada and then sit down to watch Parenthood. Afterwards I REALLY wanted to watch Chopped off of the DVR but Chief wanted to go to bed. He kept saying “you can watch it, I’ll just watch it later” and I kept whining and fussing about him going to bed. 100 mg Clomid is turning me into a really annoying child. Or maybe I just am one on my own. So long story short, I refused to kiss my husband goodnight because he wanted to go to bed at 10:15 instead of staying up too late like I did last night after he came home from a nine hour day of work and demoed part of our kitchen. I am really a jerk.

Then to top it ALL off, I was running late this morning, I look like hell and I get an email from lumber liquidators that my debit card was declined. In the name of Mitt Romney’s baggy trousers I swear, there were curse words. LOTS of them. So I called LL and yada yada yada my debit card probably has a limit on it so then I call the bank and yada yada yes my debit card DOES have a limit on it and I would have to come into the bank to lift the limit. I don’t have a car with me today (Chief and I carpooled) and I couldn’t leave work today anyway. So then I had to call my pops and ask him if I could use a credit card to buy the countertops with and pay him with a check this evening. I know logistically I’m not REALLY borrowing money from him, but it still feels like I am. We have a long history with this sort of issue-but that’s for another day. Long story long, I got the countertops ordered and they’ll be here in nine days. Hopefully by then I’ll be out of Clomid’s evil clutches.

The most horrible thing about last night is that I KNEW I should apologize to my husband, but I couldn’t make myself get up and do it. I don’t like me right now and I feel stupid for trying to blame it on Clomid-but normal Librarian wouldn’t do things like this….would she?

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10 thoughts on “Home Improvement + Clomid

  1. It’s definitely the Clomid and not you!! We used to refer to me as Hormone Helen – as in Mt. St. Helen when I was on Clomid – you never knew when I was going to blow up!

  2. I can’t imagine renovating on Clomid. Our remodeling wad hard enough! You never realize all the little problems until you start ripping stuff out. Moldy walls? Check. Leaky pipes? Check. Huge hole in the floor from leaky pipes? Check. Awesomeness.

    • Yes-we have all of those things. I knew about the subfloor damage before hand, but we thought we’d repaired that pipe and had no idea about the mold (which isn’t ANYWHERE near the leaky pipe BTW).

      • Mysterious mold is always exciting, isn’t it? We also found a mouse nest when tearing out the cabinets. There was this weird hole behind the cabinet over the stove and a little critter had made a cozy little nest up there. K wanted to just close the hole up but I wanted to make sure there was nothing inside. We stood there for 15 minutes arguing about who was going to stick their hand in there to make sure it was empty. He chickened out (pansy boy) so I had to do it. Thank God the mouse had decided to move elsewhere or there would have been a flip out of epic proportions. Oh the joys of home renovations!

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