4:46 p.m. - 2004-05-03
Hand me the walker and the Depends.
Entry 2:
There's icing on the fucking cake.
My Dr. Office called and left a message about my cholesterol is high again, and having to make appts every two months to check my liver. So, this can only mean I'm being put on Lipitor.
I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE IT! How many more old people drugs do I have to take? And my doctor is considered VERY conservative, so I must really need this stuff.
Plus I seem to be booted off shag buddy island, and I really liked being on that fucking island. (No pun intended.)
I just want to say FUCK over and over again until my tongue goes numb or God strikes me down with lightening for having a heathenous foul mouth.
I want to cry, beat something up and go into deap denial about my health.
But I won't. I'm made of sturdier stuff than that. Plus, with the exception of the spinal problems and athsma, all are curable.
So, there is a positive spin. I'll be back to my bouncy self in a matter of days. As soon as I stop feeling sorry for myself. At least I'm cute and nice. That's good for something.
