Sunday, November 16, 2014

Fasting Sucks! I Want Coffee and Bacon!

I love Sunday.  It's my day off, and my day to do whatever I want.  And I usually am a hermit.  But today I have to get to the clinic for my fasting blood work.  I hate fasting blood work.  I hate fasting.  And if my clinic were open before 10 any morning I would have done it a lot sooner, but here I sit, writing my favorite blog, on my favorite day without my coffee, and getting more and more grumpy as the clock ticks on.
My hands tingle as I type even with the wrist splints and I realize that I can't really write like this.  And that has been a problem.  I want to write and I feel like I need to write, but I can't.  I need a secretary.  LOL.  That's a good one.  Apparently 30 years of typing has given me carpel tunnel, but the blood work this morning is to rule out anything else before we do steroid shots in my wrists.  OUCH.  Not looking forward to that.  And then the test of needles down my arms to confirm what we believe I have.  Then I imagine surgery.  I hate the thought of being wounded while healing.  But I know that once its done I'll feel much better.
I have so many things I'd like to write about, finish the novel is always on the docket. But other things too, feelings I have about my new life.  People I miss.  People I don't miss.  How that makes me feel, but the tingle takes away all my wit and creative ability and just hurts.
So please forgive the short blogs until I can get a handle on this.  And know that I will figure this out like everything else that tries to stop me.
I woke up yesterday feeling very disappointed at men as a gender.  I tried to take off my "I hate men pants" yesterday but the feeling is pretty much still here.  I think I'll need to figure out a way to be happy here without feeling let down by the past.  I hate that the past still haunts me.  Sometimes I wish I cared less so it had no power over me.  Its not that I'm not happy.  But I look around my cozy studio and wish sometimes, that there was someone here with me. Usually more on quiet times like now, not all the time, but enough to have me starting to wake up hating men.  Well not all men, but the ones I feel let me down.  I don't know if that is a good thing or not.  Usually anger is not.  At least I'm not depressed.  I need more water and to stop making my hands hurt more.