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I have a sweetly curled up dog, yet another horror movie on Netflix and another migraine. I had one Sunday, I don't know if I should chalk it up to a couple very bright days and nights of poor sleep, or if things are escalating. I ordered a pizza and now all I want is an ice cream sundae, complete with hot fudge and possibly even one of those toxic red cherries on top. I could foodler one up, but somehow that's a bridge too far for even me.
The omeprazole doesn't seem to be doing as good a job lately, and I know if I go back to the doctor, she'll push for a food diary and possibly another colonoscopy/endoscopy and I don't really want either. But last night was all heartburn and belching until the wee hours and I don't want that either.
I canceled on Intention this evening, before I even figured out it was a migraine (it's weird that I'm still not great at judging migraine pain until I take the pills and it's absent and I'm like "oh, that's what turning my head is supposed to feel like/not feel like."), when I just thought that I wasn't feeling up to strangers.
Today felt off. I could barely wake up, I don't even know how I spent the morning, though I suspect cleaning. Out to Brookline to my psychiatrist, with time to kill I went and bought a bra at Lady Grace, and I know bra sizing is basically black magic, but now I'm a 42C, which doesn't seem quite right and somehow makes me feel like my boobs are shrinking. It was so hard after the reconstruction, when I got rid of almost all of my clothes because they didn't hang right, because my pre-surgery boobs were larger, because I hadn't understood, hadn't asked the right questions, didn't know how much things were going to change, and my surgeon told me it wasn't that much of a change, that I had the largest implants available. But once, I was a DD and I don't feel like I've lost weight but I refuse to get on a scale. And the woman suggested I avoid underwires, because of the aforemtnioned implants. But I felt strange and sad and reminded that I'd lost something. Oh, and matronly. Lady Grace does not stock sexy not-underwire bras in my size.
Then to pick Light up at work, stopped in at Staples and was unable to resist the idea of a staple that contained a pencil sharper. (we needed the stapler, i'm not so sure about the pencil sharpener.) Then couples, and home, and then meds and pizza and Light's at one of his D&D games and Abundance is at a meetup, and there's all these goals I set myself for the week that I haven't done. Financial things for our financial advisor, all the dishes, made bananas bread and tibetan burritos, wrangled the rest of the medical billing, finished the cross stitch. Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow. And I should catch up on emails, and I should read that dog training book, and find the next class for Nonsense to take, and I should find a volunteer opportunity and yet.
I want to buy all the seasonal fall and halloween indie perfumes, I want everything to be pumpkin flavored. I want it to be time to roast squashes and open the windows.
The omeprazole doesn't seem to be doing as good a job lately, and I know if I go back to the doctor, she'll push for a food diary and possibly another colonoscopy/endoscopy and I don't really want either. But last night was all heartburn and belching until the wee hours and I don't want that either.
I canceled on Intention this evening, before I even figured out it was a migraine (it's weird that I'm still not great at judging migraine pain until I take the pills and it's absent and I'm like "oh, that's what turning my head is supposed to feel like/not feel like."), when I just thought that I wasn't feeling up to strangers.
Today felt off. I could barely wake up, I don't even know how I spent the morning, though I suspect cleaning. Out to Brookline to my psychiatrist, with time to kill I went and bought a bra at Lady Grace, and I know bra sizing is basically black magic, but now I'm a 42C, which doesn't seem quite right and somehow makes me feel like my boobs are shrinking. It was so hard after the reconstruction, when I got rid of almost all of my clothes because they didn't hang right, because my pre-surgery boobs were larger, because I hadn't understood, hadn't asked the right questions, didn't know how much things were going to change, and my surgeon told me it wasn't that much of a change, that I had the largest implants available. But once, I was a DD and I don't feel like I've lost weight but I refuse to get on a scale. And the woman suggested I avoid underwires, because of the aforemtnioned implants. But I felt strange and sad and reminded that I'd lost something. Oh, and matronly. Lady Grace does not stock sexy not-underwire bras in my size.
Then to pick Light up at work, stopped in at Staples and was unable to resist the idea of a staple that contained a pencil sharper. (we needed the stapler, i'm not so sure about the pencil sharpener.) Then couples, and home, and then meds and pizza and Light's at one of his D&D games and Abundance is at a meetup, and there's all these goals I set myself for the week that I haven't done. Financial things for our financial advisor, all the dishes, made bananas bread and tibetan burritos, wrangled the rest of the medical billing, finished the cross stitch. Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow. And I should catch up on emails, and I should read that dog training book, and find the next class for Nonsense to take, and I should find a volunteer opportunity and yet.
I want to buy all the seasonal fall and halloween indie perfumes, I want everything to be pumpkin flavored. I want it to be time to roast squashes and open the windows.
