Lots of memes going around about this decade ending in X days, asking what you’ve done in that time. Ten years is a solid chunk of your life, and this decade saw me go from my 30s to my 40s in several million blinks of an eye. I stopped blogging daily somewhere in the middle of the decade, so large parts of my life have not been dutifully documented for prosperity’s sake – this will inevitably come back to bite me in the ass when I am super old(er) and someone says “hey, what did you do on August 15th in 2017?” and I don’t know because the only thing I have to go off of is an Instagram post of a picture of 10-year-old Kimli holding a pigeon. That is not helpful. Why did I stop blogging? This is terrible.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m still angry and not planning on taking it for much longer. However, my unusually heightened emotional state of the past week may have had a little more to do with womanly hysteria than I was willing to admit: it seems I was full of the PMS. I never recognize the symptoms until I have visual confirmation, because I’ve basically forgotten how to period thanks to my superhuman delayed cycle. Instead of 5 days of fun every 4 weeks, I get one day every 18 months .. so I think I can be forgiven for not realizing when I’ve gone insane because of hormones instead of just regular insane because of stress.
To be fair, things are really lousy outside my uterus, too. The ongoing situation at work has given me stress cysts in awkward places, and one fucking ruptured today. There’s something wrong with my throat: it feels as though something’s stuck in my esophagus, and I’m constantly trying to force the nothing out which makes my gag reflex go into overdrive and then I panic a little because I can’t breathe. The stuck-in-throat feeling has been going on for about a week now, but over the last two days it’s been really problematic. If it keeps up for much longer, I’m going to have to go to the doctor. Trying to self-diagnose did no good at all, because the internet says I have several kinds of throat cancer and pregnancy, so I’m freaking out about that too. I need a haircut and a vacation. I’m worried/keyed up/excited/terrified about the future. I started biting my nails again. Work is .. complicated and disappointing. Those Prada Candy commercials are weird and dumb. My face hurts.
So there’s all that stuff, and I feel bad for complaining. Throw it all in a blender and shed a surprise uterine lining or two, and BAM: tears everywhere. Ain’t nobody got time for that!
If change is coming, I sure hope it gets here soon.
Cheddar’s test results came back early this week, and she has a bladder infection. Bladder infections are horrible, uncomfortable things, but Cheddar has been a trooper throughout – we’ve been far more concerned about her leaky swollen areas than she is, and she continues to be her ridiculously cheerful self. The vet prescribed antibiotics for her (which she also takes with good cheer – damnit cat, you’re making us all look bad by comparison), and she’s mending quickly. She will be having a (terribly expensive) ultrasound on Friday to rule out any stones, but the vet said her bloodwork was great, her organs are delightful, and as this is the first real problem she’s experienced in the 13 years (give or take a month) we’ve had her, things are pretty super. Our fingers are crossed that the ultrasound will turn out to be an expensive exercise in precaution, but for now things are looking good and that is all I can ask for.
The timing of all this couldn’t really be worse, but that’s how things are apparently supposed to go. The Ghost in the Mini turned out to be a combination blown fuse and poltergeists caused by (according to the car vets) the iPhone stereo adapter we installed – Ed flashed a little sausage to get the bill cut in half, but it still cost us $300. Cheddar’s vet bills hover around $600 to date, and Friday’s ultrasound will cost another $500. Ed’s iPhone 4 disappeared from his office bathroom a couple weeks ago (and has yet to show up on Find My iPhone), so that needs replacing. We didn’t go hog wild in London (95% of our trip was paid for before we left the country), but we did abuse the credit card just a little and that needs to be paid off. Things are expensive. Would anybody like to buy some plasma? How about some eggs? I have eggs I’m not using; perhaps you’d like to incubate your very own little Kimli.
These are so first world I’m a little disgusted with myself, but on the other hand if these are my only problems then I am in a very good place indeed.