Back in January I bought a couple of Groupons. One for 18 weeks of boot camp (did I tell you that I’ve GAINED two pounds?) and one for sclerotherapy.

What’s that fellas and kids under 35? You don’t know what sclerotherapy is? Well, it’s when a doctor injects a solution into your blood vessels to eliminate spider veins.

Yes, that’s right. I bought a Groupon for cosmetic surgery and I’m telling you about it on my blog. Who loves self-deprecation? *Stands up* *Waves hand*

But, people, this is ME we’re talking about. I can’t just go in and use my Groupon for vein surgery without getting a pre-operative ultrasound that shows I have honest-to-goodness venous insufficiency. That’s a fancy way of saying my blood pumps the wrong way.

Left untreated, the burning pain I feel in my legs (that I always assumed was nerve pain) would get worse and I would likely end up with some bulging, varicose veins…which would really kind of put a damper on swim suit season.

So before I can have the sclerotherapy, I have to get vein ablations in both legs. Today I go in for my left leg and next week, my right.

Clearly, you can see the good in this situation right? No? Well, let me tell you!

I am preemptively striking against bulging veins (good), the pain and burning in my legs will improve (good), then I can have sclerotherapy to get rid of the spider veins I’ve had since high school (good) and I’m pretty sure they’re going to give me Morphine (better).

The downside? A week of wearing a thigh-high compression stocking in 90 degree heat.

So, while I’m lying in front of a fan and sleeping off some medicine you should head over to my post about Gatorade Moms where BlogHer is giving one of my readers a $100.00 gift card to Dick’s Sporting Goods!

If you win, could you pick me up some cute compression capris?

Today is my third, and final, day of a three-day fruit and vegetable cleanse that I did per the instructions of my boot camp leader.  The only other woman I know who completed the cleanse went to a restaurant on the fourth day and ate crab bisque.  She pooped her pants before she even made it home.

Tonight, I’m going to dinner with some friends.  You know how you always start a diet and think, “I should start after New Year’s” then it’s, “I should start after the Super Bowl” then, “I should start after Valentine’s Day”?  Well, I got tired of putting it off.

But, considering the crab bisque story, I’m thinking I should have waited until after dinner with my friends tonight.  Or, maybe, when they asked me where I wanted to eat, I shouldn’t have suggested a Mexican restaurant.

This?  Is me screwing up the hard work of Judith Shakes Designs.

Here’s how it went down…

11:30pm Sunday:  My BlogHer ad is getting cut off in this new template.  I know that Judith Shakes is working on my new, custom design so, for the time being, maybe I can just find a template with a wider right sidebar so my ad will fit.  It can’t be that hard.  WordPress is great!

12:00am Monday:  Wow, I’m really tired and this template with the tree is kind of like my Momo Fali’s tree, even though everything is gray and there is dark green writing and I really don’t like the font or where my pages show up.  Because, hello?!  My ad fits in the sidebar!  Maybe I’ll switch the template and find out how to put in my header and change the colors after the fact.

12:15am Monday:  *Takes Ambien*

12:35am Monday:  This template is AWESOME!  Just because my ad fits!  I’m sure there isn’t any other way for my ad to fit in this space without me COMPLETELY changing the template.  Right?  zzzzz.  Of course not!  zzzzz.  I’m doing it despite the fact that I keep dozing off!  zzzzz.

12:45am Monday:  zzzzz.  Why are these tags at the bottom of my header?  zzzzz.  Who wants to come to a humor blog and find a 9/11 tag right at the top of the page?   Oh here!  This zzzzz archive button zzzzz looks zzzzz like zzzzz the place to change zzzzz it.

1:10am Monday:  Okay, now I’m awake!  That was a good cat nap.  I should eat some Skittles.

1:25am Monday:  Whew.  I’m glad I didn’t change anything without copying it first!  *Copies archives* *Deletes* *Realizes that only one-third of the text got copied* *Don’t know if it was from the middle, beginning or end*  *Deletes everything* *Freaks out*  *Dozes off again*

7:15am Monday:  Ugh.  I’m still so tired and my mouth is all Skittley.  What the…oh no.  WHAT HAVE I DONE?????!!!!!!!

9:30am Monday:  *Slithers, via e-mail to Judith Shakes to apologize profusely for deleting every archive that she just moved over here.*  *Smacks self*  *Vows to never touch area of dashboard that says, “Themes” ever again*

Much to my husband’s chagrin, I am a Twitter addict. I love to curl up on the couch with my laptop after the kids have gone to bed and read what everyone is doing in 140 characters or less. I don’t know why I like it, but I do.

Another great mystery is why I like to go on Twitter after I take my Ambien. Some people sleep-eat, some people make phone calls, I even know someone who took their dog to the dog park and lost him because she was on Ambien. I feel the need to say it wasn’t me. Anyway, some people do crazy things on that medicine. I just send tweets.

Last night, after my girly part surgery, I went on Twitter on Dilaudid (also know as Hydromorphone). I did NOT take Dilaudid AND Ambien, because then I would be dead.

Here, for your enjoyment, are a few of my Dilaudid tweets…

I’m on Dilaudid,daf; everylook lop;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

@secretagentmama But I’m halluciantiaon in my liviner oom and I’ve having fn. I jusst saw a buffalo

I have to pee and I hoptea I don’t fall asleep in there like I did earlign.

I dind’dt fall saleep in the bathroom PROGRSSS! Now, eating blueberyy bread and I ckind of what to marry kit.

I thought my hsubnad was hust bringing me wi-ne. I was like, “Wahtewa are you CRAWZZAZZZYY?” His handmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm was empty.

I feel asleep on “hand”.

I just said to my husband athat I vfeel like everything I’m telling you is from a dream.. He said, “That’s ture.” I’m really confursted.

@secretagentmama duid you just calle me Jar Jar Binks? Because I think you called me Jar Jar Binks, when clearly I am Yoda.

My head is like a bobble toy right now=============================

That’s not the window!

just asked my husbna if the guy on TV is named, “Major” and he said, “No, it’s Rex”. Dude I was THAT close.

Thank goodness, I’m no longer in pain. Though you can still look forward to the Ambien tweets. I live for your amusement, or as I told a friend earlier…I’m here to confurst you.