Well, I said I had a shitload of news for you, so here it is...
Daniel applied for a job with the county last week. I wasn't aloud to share this news over the internet for various reasons, but mostly because my ex-boyfriend is on a serious mission to get a job through my dad (which I find really weird) and we didn't want the phone calls. As if he would help my ex? Especially if it were to lower the chances for the father of his grandchild? As bitchy as it sounds: get a life, dude. We helped you enough during the two years we dated, even though you were pretty much using us the entire time. I won't get into all of that, though.
via Ashton on Pinterest
If this works out, Daniel will go from making minimum wage approximately 18 hours a week to making a good deal more, full time. Which means we can actually get our own apartment, and since we'll have the truck (on loan from my grandma), everything will just be looking so much better than it has been. We seriously can't live on Daniel's current income, and so if this doesn't work out, we're back to a major job hunt for him.
My dad says that we will definitely get him in with the county eventually, and that he has a damn good chance this round. But everything depends, you know? We don't know how many other people are applying or how qualified they are, but we suspect there won't be much competition. I hope, I hope, I hope.
Oh, and Daniel got his permit about a week ago, which he'd been putting off; he gets discouraged. We have to get his license very soon (by the date of interview, if he gets one), so we're on some major crunch-time. I'm proud of him and I can tell he's proud of himself.
And he's doing so well! I was thoroughly convinced that he would never want to drive with me again after our first time out, but he's been back in the car with me twice since. It's just that I was extremely nervous that first time. And it showed...oh, did it. He was having trouble centering the car, and it's big, so I was freaked out. But I gave him the pointers he needed, and the second time he improved so much. I know he'll pass now, I'm absolutely positive. And I'm excited for him! He's been putting all of this off for so long, and now that he's taking the initiative, I can see how much his spirits have lifted.
On another note, I HATE MY OB. Or, rather, the clinic I've been going to, considering they've changed my OB like four times without asking me or really informing me. I have so many problems with them...and I'm going to rant about them now. I warned you.
- I have not once gotten any test results (not even for a blood test which was supposed to alert me to chances of birth defects!).
- The receptionists are incredibly rude.
- I have had appointments canceled/rescheduled at the very last minute numerous times because apparently they have no idea when their doctors are actually going to be there. Which wouldn't be so annoying if these were surprise days off, emergencies, whatever. NOPE. Just didn't know the doctor was out of town that day? Cool. No, I'm not at all bothered by the fact that I'm driving to the appointment as we speak but you want me there tomorrow. Oh, and you want me to either see a doctor I've never seen before (again) or one that I totally hate? No problem.
- Also, if that's the case, WHY CAN'T I JUST KEEP MY APPOINTMENT DATE? Obviously I'm not seeing my doctor anyway, so why do I want to drive over again tomorrow to see a doctor that's there today?
- I have also walked in for a scheduled appointment, only to be seen as a walk-in. Because they didn't schedule right. Go figure.
- I have called the right department and had the phone ring for an eternity. I have called the wrong one because the right one refused to answer and been put on hold for a half-hour because I called the wrong one.
|Source: limadean.tumblr.com via Janette on Pinterest|
- The doctors love to blow off my questions and concerns like I'm an idiot. Like recently, I told one particular doctors that I can't handle dairy. ANY form of dairy. He said, "Try yogurt." Yogurt is dairy. It makes me sick. "Try cheese." Okay, I can have some cheese, but how much cheese do you seriously think I can handle? It's dairy. I just want to know if I should be taking calcium supplements. "No, eat cheese." Fuck you.
I hate them so much.
But it turns out I can't find another clinic that accepts my insurance, and so I'm stuck with the fuckers. (HUGE sad face.) For now, I did call them and tell them very kindly that I'm tired of being switched and I want to see a particular doctor (who I actually haven't seen before this appointment, but which my dad and his girlfriend were very fond of while she was pregnant with CJ), and so I'm hoping I can get him every time. Even if I have to be rude about the fact that I won't accept less. I'm sure they'll forget the conversation happened, though.
Did I have more to say? I can't remember because I have pregnancy brain up the ass right now...and this feels unfinished. Oh well.