Wow, what a weekend.

And I seem to have lost the cable that connects my camera to the computer, so I will not be sharing with you today any pictures of Penny lounging in her little ball-pit, lazily tossing balls out onto the kitchen floor.

But trust me, they're cute.

So I left work an hour early and went to the doctor Friday afternoon. My doctor's office is always slammed, so I was pleasantly surprised when, right on time, they brought me back to an exam room. The nurse weighed me (about what I thought), took my temperature (low-grade), checked my pulse (normal), took my blood pressure (normal), and stuck a swab down my throat (gak).

I'd had the foresight to bring my book in with me, so I sat and read for maybe ten minutes, and then the doctor came in. Not my usual doctor, but another one of the practice's standard staff. "Hi!" she said. "How're you feeling?"

"Great," I said, "except my throat's been hurting for three days, a little worse each day. I just wanted to rule out strep before we got into the weekend."

She nodded her understanding, shone a light down my throat, and then beamed at me. "Guess what? You have strep!" She said this like an excited little kid might say, "Guess what? I got a present!"

"Oh. Yay," I croaked.

"There's good news, and bad news," she told me.

"Hit me."

"The good news is, you won't be contagious in another twenty-four hours." She whipped out her prescription pad, scrawled, and handed me a sheet. "If your family doesn't have it yet, they probably won't get it, but if they do - do they come here? No? Well, that's all right. If they get sick, have them just page their doctor and say that you're being treated for strep, and they'll probably just call in an antibiotic over the phone. It's not done if someone just says they have a sore throat, but with one confirmed case of strep in the house, there's usually no need for anyone else to waste a trip to the doctor's for a test."

"Great. The bad news?"

"The bad news is, you have strep."

So, yeah. I had the prescription filled and bought a bunch of sore-throat-relief doodads, and went home.

None of the doodads really worked. The thing that worked best was Advil, actually. I was developing a killer headache from wincing every time I swallowed, so I took three Advil, and an hour later I realized that the pain in my throat had gone from "strep" to "severe post-nasal drip" which was a pretty significant improvement.

Saturday morning had some improvement already, and it was better again by Saturday evening, and by Sunday morning it was down to one little patch right at the back of my throat that just felt kind of dry and tender. This morning I can feel a couple of little achey spots if I concentrate hard, but who wants to spend all day concentrating on their throat? Huzzah for modern medicine.

Saturday, the new Harry Potter book was supposed to arrive. I'd had no fewer than three emails from Amazon.Com on Friday, telling me that it was being delivered via multiple carriers, and I should a) try to be home, in case the carrier didn't think it was safe to leave the package on my doorstep; and b) not call customer service to complain I didn't have the book until at least 7pm.

Saturday morning, I got an email saying it was shipped via UPS, and here was my tracking number.

Being a geek, I instantly went to UPS's website and plugged in the tracking number.

UPS said it had already been delivered. On Friday. In the afternoon.

I went outside and looked at the porch. No box. Matt went out back to check the deck. No box.

"Well," I said, "Maybe UPS was just delivering it to a local distribution center, to coordinate the day-of-release deliveries." I groused and grumbled, and stayed home, and I jumped every time any kind of vehicle came down our street.

When it still hadn't shown up with Penny's nap was done, Matt decided he would take her with him down to Sam's Club, and I could stay home to wait for the book.

No book. No book. No book.

Matt called me as he was leaving the Sam's Club to tell me they had huge stacks of the book on display, but he'd decided he shouldn't buy one.

I kept an eye out for the mail truck. Just in case.

No book. No mail. No book. No mail.

I was whining at Karen when Matt and Penny got home. Matt opened the door and Penny climbed over the threshold, a green and white box clutched in her hands. "Take that to Mommy," Matt told her.

Harry Potter. "Wha-?"

"It was in the mailbox," Matt said, brandishing the rest of the mail.

"I was watching for the truck!" I said.

"Oh," Matt said. "The mail was already here when Penny and I left."

SIGH.

I had my Discovery Toys sales-party on Sunday. It looked like it was going to be just me and my mom, but Kris cancelled her prior plans (due to Sarah being under the weather) and came to the party as well.

The sales lady felt so guilty about having messed up the invitations, though, that she had been calling people and trying to do sales over the phone and stuff. So it worked out to a pretty good show, after all. I'm going to be able to get some cool toys for Penny, and birthday presents for Emma, at a nice low price.

After the party, Mom and I went back to my house, where Matt and my dad had been having fun watching Penny play in the pool and run all over. I made dinner for everyone, and it turned out very well.

And then I sat up late to finish reading The Book.

--Liz