Surely I'm not the only person sick and tired of all my medi-speak. Seriously.
(Seriously. Now that Grey's Anatomy is back on tv, I'm going to be saying seriously all the fucking time. Seriously. Seriously -- it's the new like. Seriously.)
Remember when I use to make stuff? Like sew? Or scrapbook? Or embroider? I miss those days. Don't you? I sure do. Yep. I miss them.
Instead, I spend every waking moment staring at the computer learning about antigen therapy and a whole slew of medical shit that makes my eyes glaze over just thinking about all of it. Or I feel bad and depressed because I realized that today is the one year anniversary of Darwin's eye accident.
So today, I choose to be happy. Or, at least, to put a really fake smile on my face and make believe.
I started with a shower. Yes! Good idea! Wash away all the negativity. Then I took a walk around the garden (note to self: use bottled up aggression to pull weeds. Lots and lots of weeds). Now I'm going to pick up the house (a cluttered house leads to a cluttered mind. AND IS MY MIND EVER CLUTTERED). And hopefully later, lots of creativity.
Creativity or ouzo. One or the other.