Meds. Bed. Sleep.
p.s. Sissy Pants' baby shower....that I planned....is saturday. Sickness is not an option.
Showing posts with label Shittacularness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shittacularness. Show all posts
6.4.11
these are not the kind of big balls anyone wants to deal with.
Both of my tonsils feel about this big right now.
Meds. Bed. Sleep.
p.s. Sissy Pants' baby shower....that I planned....is saturday. Sickness is not an option.
Meds. Bed. Sleep.
p.s. Sissy Pants' baby shower....that I planned....is saturday. Sickness is not an option.
27.1.11
it's kind of like one of those things where you find the differences in the pictures
It's a lovely day outside, you jump in your car to head to town, anxiously awaiting the purr of the engine. You plunge the key into the ignition and delight as the engine roars to life. You check your dashboard make sure you've got fuel and everything is in working in proper order. You smile as your eyes flicker over the dials that look like this:
Lovely! Gas, good to go. RPM's, looking good fella's! Time to hit the road.
What you don't want to see is this:
Gas, we're still pretty good. RPM's....RPM's? Where are you, you little bastards?!
This is what your gauge is like when it's a dick and can't make up it's mind whether it wants to work consistently or not work at all. And there is no way in hell I'm paying over 300 bones to fix it when it's not quite broken yet.
I've got my eye on you RPM's, time to shape up!
Lovely! Gas, good to go. RPM's, looking good fella's! Time to hit the road.
What you don't want to see is this:
This is what your gauge is like when it's a dick and can't make up it's mind whether it wants to work consistently or not work at all. And there is no way in hell I'm paying over 300 bones to fix it when it's not quite broken yet.
I've got my eye on you RPM's, time to shape up!
21.9.10
Today's color is: Red.
Red.
It's the color of the numbers flashing on the clock telling me I'm already 15 mintues late leaving the house in the morning.
It's the color of the fucking stoplight that made me sit for over 5 minutes because it refused to let my side turn green but taunted me by turning the other 3 sides of the intersection green. Three times. Count them. 1. 2. 3.
It's the color of my vision as I was stuck in the worst traffic ever trying to get to fresno on time.
It's the color of the mark that was on my face from nearly falling asleep in class because I didn't have time to get coffee this morning.
It's the color of my skin as I baked in my car for almost an hour waiting for my prof to show up to the second half of our lab today.
It's the color of my impatience as I waited 10 minutes to get $20 out of the ATM because of the two turtles in front of me taking their sweet ass time.
Red. I used to like you, but now I fear you're just another tool the universe is using to put my brain in a vice grip and squeeeeeeeze. Forever more you will be equated with blood and pain.
Needless to say, it's been a shittacular day. Add that in with my excursions on Sunday and my discovery yesterday, and we're chalking it up to a bad week here folks. I know, a month of no posting and you get this? Well tune in later and I'll tell you all about how I think I'm becoming a giant magnet that kills all things remotely electronic within a mile radius of me.
But, you'll all be happy to know, that the mysterious horn honking is back. In the past couple of weeks I've managed to scare the shit out of myself by honking my own horn more than a half dozen times. The culprit? Usually my backpack. But one unlucky time, it was my forehead as I reached back down into my car for something. Yes, yes I AM that dumb. Feel free to laugh.
It's the color of the numbers flashing on the clock telling me I'm already 15 mintues late leaving the house in the morning.
It's the color of the fucking stoplight that made me sit for over 5 minutes because it refused to let my side turn green but taunted me by turning the other 3 sides of the intersection green. Three times. Count them. 1. 2. 3.
It's the color of my vision as I was stuck in the worst traffic ever trying to get to fresno on time.
It's the color of the mark that was on my face from nearly falling asleep in class because I didn't have time to get coffee this morning.
It's the color of my skin as I baked in my car for almost an hour waiting for my prof to show up to the second half of our lab today.
It's the color of my impatience as I waited 10 minutes to get $20 out of the ATM because of the two turtles in front of me taking their sweet ass time.
Red. I used to like you, but now I fear you're just another tool the universe is using to put my brain in a vice grip and squeeeeeeeze. Forever more you will be equated with blood and pain.
Needless to say, it's been a shittacular day. Add that in with my excursions on Sunday and my discovery yesterday, and we're chalking it up to a bad week here folks. I know, a month of no posting and you get this? Well tune in later and I'll tell you all about how I think I'm becoming a giant magnet that kills all things remotely electronic within a mile radius of me.
But, you'll all be happy to know, that the mysterious horn honking is back. In the past couple of weeks I've managed to scare the shit out of myself by honking my own horn more than a half dozen times. The culprit? Usually my backpack. But one unlucky time, it was my forehead as I reached back down into my car for something. Yes, yes I AM that dumb. Feel free to laugh.
8.6.10
25 is the new 80
I am an old woman.
My hip hurts beyond belief. Incredible INCREDIBLE intense sharp stabbing shooting pain that make me want to take mass quantities of pain killers and then chase them with some booze to pass out. This hip o mine, that decided it wants to go all decrepit and rickety, ruined my workout today. Thanks a lot hip, thanks for being an asshole.
Also ruining my workout today? My gift from mother nature. Thanks a lot for stomach wrenching pain that makes me want to do the above with the pain killers and booze and passing out, but making sure that passing out is in the fetal position.
Instead of the pain killers and booze though, I opted for fresh peach icecream from Superior Dairy. De-li-cious. It soothed my soul a bit and makes it officially summer. I should feel more guilty about eating icecream when I only got to do 1 mile of my run, but honestly? I earned it today so guilt be damned. Bring on the peach!
What also makes things better, is finishing a book and going and buying a new one to start that day. :) Love, love and love.
If you need me, I'll be in an icecream coma, curled up in the fetal position, reading my new book.
My hip hurts beyond belief. Incredible INCREDIBLE intense sharp stabbing shooting pain that make me want to take mass quantities of pain killers and then chase them with some booze to pass out. This hip o mine, that decided it wants to go all decrepit and rickety, ruined my workout today. Thanks a lot hip, thanks for being an asshole.
Also ruining my workout today? My gift from mother nature. Thanks a lot for stomach wrenching pain that makes me want to do the above with the pain killers and booze and passing out, but making sure that passing out is in the fetal position.
Instead of the pain killers and booze though, I opted for fresh peach icecream from Superior Dairy. De-li-cious. It soothed my soul a bit and makes it officially summer. I should feel more guilty about eating icecream when I only got to do 1 mile of my run, but honestly? I earned it today so guilt be damned. Bring on the peach!
What also makes things better, is finishing a book and going and buying a new one to start that day. :) Love, love and love.
If you need me, I'll be in an icecream coma, curled up in the fetal position, reading my new book.
my nose is in this book
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