You guise, I am a wreck.
We are on week whatthefuckever of laying on the couch watching tv and pausing it intermittently because I can’t follow the storyline and it is MOTHERFUCKING REAL HOUSEWIVES THERE IS NO DAMN STORYLINE so you see how bad things are getting ’round ‘ere.
I am trawling pinterest for tasty recipes for things I will never eat considering anything I put into my gaping maw comes out eight hours later and I could chuck (lolz) that fucker on a plate reshape, reheat and reserve. And what does stay down… well what is that song from Johnny Cash?
Magnetoboldtoo, click here thinking it is about X-Men, slapped in the face with vomit and diarrhea.
Boo is being a butthead and also has hayfever. The two may or may not be related, but I have had to pick him up from school two days in a row and BOTH TIMES just as I have made myself the only hot drink of my day and BOTH FUCKING TIMES it was cold and gross by the time I got home. If I had the energy I would look for those cameras.
And today he is home sick. Running around the house with a guitar strapped to his body playing Queen songs wearing underpants and a too small StarWars tshirt, sick. Yeah. I wish I was that kind of sick.
Next week is birthday week – my dad, Maddie and Boo’s birthdays – Maddie is in New York so we wont see her *sob* and Boo turns EIGHTEEN and then Too graduates from University the next day.
Things are busy.
Hoping like fuck I am feeling moderately better by then.
I have ordered all but my Dad’s presents online (even Too’s graduation present, GO ME *high fives self and winks at hidden cameras*) and filled out funding forms that school ‘forgot’ to that were supposed to be in by APRIL and spent far too much time clicking on my Pokemon Go app willing motherfucking pokemon to wander into my loungeroom.
Super productive, yo. Especially for a chick who barely remembers what day it is and biggest achievement of the day is showering and making it past 8pm.
It has been over 4 weeks since the Professor at Monash took me off the Old Lady Stroke meds™ and there has been NO FUCKING DIFFERENCE and I am gutted. But I am hoping that my body is just a slow fucking learner and I will miraculously see 120/80 blood pressure and no dizziness when I move or not move soon so I can get me some of the GOOD pain medication cause these numbers?
They are fucking BULLSHIT, man. And there is no warning of when this shit is gunna happen.
Silver lining, I can have all the salt I want. If I could, you know, eat.
Bonus silver lining, I can’t even tolerate much liquid so I can’t even cry so I am dry crying when I whine so NO MESSED UP MAKEUP! HUZZAH!
Hoping to to get the rest of my Halloween decorations up tonight, looking at YOU, MPS, and the spa up and running in the next couple of days and by some miracle MPS will get some leave so we can just float around in it and pretend we are on holiday…
That is sure to cure the shit outta me. Right?