Fixin' to get fixed

I haven't written in awhile because I've had no sense of humor whatsoever. Not an iota of wit, not a fleeting shred of satire, not even a speck of mischief hiding out on the back burner.  I've been flattened, pummeled, leveled, and shot straight back to hell by another baby illness, mommy period and daddy absence. (((sigh)))

The only thing I can possibly squeeze a drop of amusement out of right now is that I am finally on the runway to getting fixed again this friday. How can someone have to get fixed again? Because the damn non-invasive procedure option (essure) didn't work. This time I get to have the invasive-but-hopefully-only-through-the-belly-button-laproscopic-filshie-clip tubal ligation. 

And this is what I have to say about it: I'm really looking forward to the anesthesia. Damn is it sad to look forward to 30 minutes of anesthesia in a hospital operating room like it's a spa vacation.  If bright lights and sharp scalpels are what it takes to get a good couple of inebriated hours off of mommy duty, sign me up. After the two mandatory pre-op appointments with both boys in tow, mama deserves some good hard drugs. Yesterday's gyn appointment saw G pulling speculums out of the dirty water pan under the sink and N screaming so hard at the top of his teething lungs I took him out in the hallway to let the doc know she'd better get her late ass in there immediately. And she did good: she ran in, hastily put an X on the permanent sterilization consent papers, handed over the pen and sent me on my way. Fuck yeah I consent to permanent sterilization. Do you see what I'm dealing with here??

Who the fuck cares about the resulting condom-free uninhibited sex? Please mofo, I don't give a rat's friggin' ass about that right now. Just put me out and ensure I'll never get pregnant again. 

Until further travails force me to the brink of insanity, so much so that I must blog or die again, that's all I've got for now.