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Sigh.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly:
1) The Good, Part One: Everyone who posted in response to my last post. Thank you. I needed it.
The Good, Part Two: Chocolate brownies. Not in the same league as friends, but oh so tasty.
2) The Bad, Part One: My lower right leg. I smucked it up good running for a bus (tripped as I was leaping onto the barely-moving vehicle and came down on the shin with my full weight on the edge of the first step), and it has swollen up quite a bit in the last few hours. Hurts like a bitch, too. Not infected, but a blood vessel somewhere under that scrape and bruise is not very happy.
The Bad, Part Two: Star Wars. Oh, fuck. The artist has totally pooched the deadline, and everyone is going nuts. George is now also going into the studio every day, swing-shifting with me to get the job out. DW owes us SO big when this is all over...
3) The Ugly, Part One: My uterus, which is alternately spewing blood randomly and trying to claw its way out of my abdomen. It seems to be performing a duet with my right leg. Bastard.
The Ugly, Part Two: "Hello, darkness, my old friend..." Depression. I can write/talk today, but I was pretty much incoherent yesterday. Today, I actually prayed to the Goddess: "Mommy, I'm tired of playing -- can I come in and have a nap?" Unfortunately, death doesn't come just for the asking.
It's a bit tougher than that.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly:
1) The Good, Part One: Everyone who posted in response to my last post. Thank you. I needed it.
The Good, Part Two: Chocolate brownies. Not in the same league as friends, but oh so tasty.
2) The Bad, Part One: My lower right leg. I smucked it up good running for a bus (tripped as I was leaping onto the barely-moving vehicle and came down on the shin with my full weight on the edge of the first step), and it has swollen up quite a bit in the last few hours. Hurts like a bitch, too. Not infected, but a blood vessel somewhere under that scrape and bruise is not very happy.
The Bad, Part Two: Star Wars. Oh, fuck. The artist has totally pooched the deadline, and everyone is going nuts. George is now also going into the studio every day, swing-shifting with me to get the job out. DW owes us SO big when this is all over...
3) The Ugly, Part One: My uterus, which is alternately spewing blood randomly and trying to claw its way out of my abdomen. It seems to be performing a duet with my right leg. Bastard.
The Ugly, Part Two: "Hello, darkness, my old friend..." Depression. I can write/talk today, but I was pretty much incoherent yesterday. Today, I actually prayed to the Goddess: "Mommy, I'm tired of playing -- can I come in and have a nap?" Unfortunately, death doesn't come just for the asking.
It's a bit tougher than that.
