Been traveling and was waiting out the end of the world, but since that didn’t happen, I guess I should post. My snot-filled head really cannot come up with anything clever, so look at this:
Had to go to the pharmacy yesterday and give a DNA sample plus sign over my first-born in order to get some “real” Sudafed (thanks a LOT, meth-heads!). Now I have completely lost my appetite, which is a good thing, since all this traveling and eating like I am on vacation has made it pretty much impossible to zip up any of my pants. In fact, one pair split. I am not making that shit up, either. If things don’t change, I’ll have to acquire an eating disorder again or something. One good thing about me quitting smoking: I can smell food now. And it all stinks to me. Too bad liquor doesn’t.
Pseudo-arguing with the non-BF about my taste in music. All that early 90s club music and I guess the descriptions of what I wore (ahem, sort of wore) in the clubs…yeah, I had to come up with the disclaimer that I was a LOT skinnier then.
Me: “Shut the hell up, I’m dancing, it’s better than me hacking up half a lung in the garbage can, bitch.”
Yeah, tonight is gonna go well. I’m off to OD on Sudafed, some kind of numbing throat lozenges and a hot toddy. Wake me up when this shit has passed. Happy holidays if I don’t emerge from this funk in the next few days. XO.