For Give

Waking in the afternoon makes me feel like a lazy, useless, wasteful piece of worthless shit. 

Of course, my body decides for me how much sleep it needs, so my anger is pointless. Much like me. Round robin I go, once more into the self-hating fray. No one will ever be as angry at me as me, I've had a lifetime of working at it. 

(but...why?)

The Monthlies

Here's a secret for you, are you ready? 

I am nervous about paying the bills. Petrified at the thought of having to call a utility service, speaking to a stranger who could flummox me. 

Fibro fog is a bunch of ass, yo. Heh. 

My hub has no idea how much I appreciate him! If I could afford it, I'd send him to a base ball camp, dagnabbit. 

Swept Under

Life is somewhat simpler now. Tentative peace? Zen on tenterhooks? Calm commercial break, more likely. I'll take what I can get, frankly. Today, I'd like my useless ovulation cramps to gtfo, along with the presumably horrid dot to follow. 

Guys, I do envy you sometimes, I'll admit it. Not just for the ability to piss your name in snow, although that's been a longtime wish of mine. No, I covet the life missing monthly cramps that can only be understood in comparison to (but not nearly as sharp & stabby) the gut pain when you need to shit, but are sans shitter, and your intestines are chock full of monkey balls and ghost chili hot sauce. The fever that comes with that desperate need to shit? Yeah, that's involved in lady dots, too, but it doesn't go away after you've shat, because the fever has reservations for at least a week, and it invited the ibs crew, the spinal angst fellas, the headache kid, and finally, after a week and a half to two weeks, the Final Boss arrives: Aunt Flo, who settles in (with me, at least) for a fortnight of Shining-style elevator gore. 

So next time you piss your name in the snow, add a lil' a for yer pal anonybitchy. 

Much obliged. 

/curls up, wishes for hysterectomy

<| |3

Please, please let make this week better than the last. Please. 

Ugh

Fuck today, yo. 

/drops mic

Crazy Crazy

It is a lovely Sunday here, with the sun shining and the skies blue; pity it had to be broken by my relative spreading lies about my hub and I to the family. Pity my m believed her. Pity them all. But no pity for me; I'm the craaaazy one, the medicated-for-public-consumption one, the one who is so craaaazy that anything can be pinned on her. Yep. 

Fuckin pity.