TMI

Yeah, it's the fibroid.  And my enlarged uterus, due to the fibroid.  Nothing to panic about.  But of course they want me to have an ultrasound to check it out and make sure things are okay, so, bleah, 32 ounces of liquid to be drunk at 9:15 tomorrow morning for an appointment at 10:30.  I hate this drill.  I also hate that I'm paying for this out of pocket because the insurance policy I pay several hundred dollars a month for has that rider on it.  [Insert rant about US health insurance industry and healthcare industry in general here.]

I'm guessing the fact that the scale in the gynecologist's office registered at 2 pounds less than the scale at the internist's office last week is due to scales being wonky, not a 2-pound weight loss in less than a week.  On the other hand, considering how far the bingeing had gone, I suppose it's possible given that I've been sticking with my Weight Watchers point allotment since Friday... anyway, I just feel so much better physically not bingeing.  Surprise, surprise.  And I'm successfully resisting the rest of that bag of Peanut M&Ms.  But I know where it is.  In case I have FIVE POINTS to spare on 1/4 of a cup.

New gutters are up on the house.  Steve and the plumber will be here tomorrow.

Tired.  Eyes still hurt.  I think I slept all right, once I went to bed at 11:30, but woke up too early, and these days once I wake up, I can't fall asleep again.

Time to go find Jerry's pill splitter.