Smothered in the sympathy you bleed

21 01 2015

Yeah, the last two post titles have totally come from songs on Aztec Camera’s album High Land, Hard Rain. I am currently listening to it on repeat while I reread old blog entries like some sort of obsessive troll. I plan to keep writing/reading/listening until I get sleepy…only pausing to whisper-sing along with We Could Send Letters…I adore that song. This could take awhile.

I think I forgot to take my nightly meds and here it is 2:40 am. I am dithering about taking them now or just waiting until I wake up at 8:15 and downing them then. This is assuming I even sleep tonight. The meds I take are all for lowering my blood pressure as my failing kidneys cause it to jack high. I do not feel like my blood pressure is over the top right now though, even after a cup of fully leaded coffee, but I checked my pulse anyway. Of course the pulse I always check is on my left wrist and that is now forever tainted by my fistula. Fistula is such a gross word, I need to come up with a new name for the access vein a surgeon created in my wrist for future dialysis. When I say tainted I mean that the usual pulse point now sports a lovely inch long scar and no pulse can be felt there, but if I run my fingers about 3 millimeters to the left of it I get a buzzing sensation from the access vein. I think it’s ridiculously cool except when I am trying to sleep, have my hand & wrist resting on the cat and I can feel it buzzing against her fur. That is unsettling.

Back from a potty break (because yes, I do urinate!) and I have to mention that we subscribe to Popular Mechanics. We also leave all magazines in the bathroom, because Spouse likes to camp out there. Anyway, this month’s issue was sitting face up on the counter and I had to angrily turn it over…as I do every time I use the toilet these days. Why? Because Olivia fucking Munn is splayed all over the cover and fuck all if I am going to go about my bodily ablutions while she stares on. Fuck her. And honestly it’s not because I am ‘jealous’ at how ‘pretty’ she is or whatever. I am secure enough in my own wildebeestness that I don’t exactly feel that way about other women. No, she just annoys the ever living shit out of me. Now if it were Kristen Bell or Oliva Wilde I would be totally fine. Those two can watch me pee all damn day.

I just logged onto amazon to play some streaming music, but then was sidetracked with buying socks. I am not making this up. It took me 10 minutes and $16 to completely forget why I was there. My brain is seriously fucked these days. On that note, I think I need to end this and go channel my energy into playing Skyrim or something. I have to because this is rapidly becoming a complete clusterfuck of a post.




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