…about autoimmune disease.
- I spend way too much time thinking/talking about poo for someone who doesn’t have an infant or a dog. Seriously- I am tried of the topic and I always feel like I give the wrong answer, as if somehow the right change in my stool will be the magic key to fix everything. WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!
- Relapse (or even better: “Loss of Remission”). Those annoying little signs that are no big deal on their own but when taken together let me know that I am in for a world of suck and there’s not really a damn thing I can do about it.
- Exhaustion. I don’t mind being fatigued if I earned it, but I’m too tired to even muster the pretence that I have a good reason for feeling this beat. Example: Put on socks. Die.
- Sores that don’t heal. Ew. Just… ew.
- Day 217 of a runny nose. Allergies? Maybe. THAT NEVER END.
- Being a big germaphobe pussy whenever someone else feels unwell. “You’re a LEPER! Get thee behind me! Hsss!” *makes cross sign with fingers*
By the way, today was fired as of 6:30 p.m. yesterday when I discovered that my brake lights would not turn off, and apparently there is no fuse to control those lights, so today started with a jump from AAA (since my jumper cables were stolen when my car was stolen) and a fruitless search for either one of two service centres that apparently don’t exist (at least any more). It was a really crappy morning, I have a terrible headache, half my office is out so of course the phone is ringing off the hook and I have the guilts that I had to drag hubby out of bed early on his day off. And they had no brownies in the coffee shop, and I’m due for a new timing belt which is a sizeable chunk of money.
Oh. And to top it all off? PMS.
Not. A. Happy. Camper.
This calls for my first-ever repeat image in this blog:
Image from We Heart It