When I get sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead. True Story.
The other day I got a stumbly thing from my biatch Sueblimely telling me that the 10th of March is The International Day of Awesomeness, which firstly I think is totally a typo cause The International Day Of Awesomeness should be March 12 the celebration of the birth of all that is fabulous and awesome. Me.
So I am planning on being all awesome and fabulous tomorrow so first I need to purge a little unawesomeness from my system so I can radiate my awesomeness for all to bask in.
~~ This morning I was woken with a scream in my ear. It was Boo. ‘MUUUUUUUM! I have an intriging question… do I have to go to school today?’ Dammit. Fucking Public Holiday today and I forgot to tell him last night thus ruining any chance of a sleep in.
~~ House full of Damn Emos and their Emo appendages means all hope and light was sucked out of my day as they stood around whining that there was no food, nothing to do. Managed to kick them all out of the house. Score.
~~ Consulted my new doctor Twitter and discovered that I have the liver failure. But it can be cured by icecream and mango margaritas.
~~ Was mind fucked by Damn Emo appendages and now correlate mangoes with my parents having sex, so ewwwwwww and no mango margaritas, I hope that just the brownie icecream (second shelf don’t forget the spoon) manages to cure my liver failure on its own.
~~ Caught in a quandry. Eating makes my stomach ache and I feel nauseous and dizzy. Not eating makes my stomach ache and I feel nauseous and dizzy. So having pizza for dinner cause if I am gunna be in pain I might as well be happy.
~~ Because of the aforementioned liver failure I cannot take my pain relief and now on hour 29 since I last took it. Yes, I am counting the hours. It was minutes so be thankful.
~~ I finally got a call from one of the numerous specialists I was referred to and now I have an appointment with a Rheumatologist. I don’t even know how to spell Rheumatologist – neither does WordPress 2.7 – let alone what the fucker does. Regardless, Dr Boredom (his name totally means that, do I get the most fucking awesome incompetents EVA?) gets to do his tology on my sweet flesh on Thursday. Being my fucking birthday.
~~ And normally, when not ravaged by Marburg Sports Injury Liver Failure, I take the week before my birthday off work so I can clean the house from top to bottom as a present to myself. Including walls and light switches and any lurking dust bunny fuckers. Then on my birthday I buy new shoes and I go out to lunch with my biatches and get me some hot Indian waiter for dinner. Awesome. This year I get to sit around looking at and smelling the filth around me after sitting for 4 weeks on my fat expanding arse and OMFG I am blown up like a balloon with fluid and fat and boredom, then go sit in a doctors office waiting for him to do his toligist stuff. Hip hip HOORAY! Fuck it all.
Phew. I feel better now. Now I feel like I can let the world bask in my awesomeness unhindered. But I will only do it in short spurts cause we don’t want anyone overwhelmed or implode or something.
I am such a humanitarian.