Pissed Off In General
I'll admit it, I am in a pissed off mood today.
My girlfriend was snippy on the phone last night, and that's what started it. Then I slept cranky, and James kept repositioning my arm for his maximum comfort, the selfish little stinky butted kitty bastard.
Then, after nibbling on tiny bits of fish protein and green leafy things yesterday, my morning glucose level was 158 (maximum normal is 126).
In case you're wondering, no, I didn't exercise at all yesterday.
One would think that eating the equivalent of three eye droppers of food per day would be sufficient, but with this she-devil called diabetes, the bitch wants exercise, too.
My legs are still sore from trekking 50 miles a day with the Canuck.
Well, my legs aren't really sore but my Achilles' tendonitis makes my normally svelte ankles look like Hillary Clinton's on a bad water weight day. Getting on my tiptoes feels like someone is driving hot nails into my ankles.
It's too cold outside to walk. Okay, it's 50 degrees and sunny but I am not a snowbird and that's too fucking cold to be banging up and down on my tender tendons.
What I'd like to do today is make some eggnog with a mess of Southern Comfort, smoke a huge joint that would make a raggae musician choke, and lay around eating chocolate truffles while I read a steamy novel and watch Aviva parade around naked, cleaning my kitchen.
What I must do today is call some people and interview them for some shit I have to write, do some laundry, mow my lawn, clean that disgusting litter box, ride my fucking exercise bike at least five miles and drink three times more water than I want.
My luxury of the day is the two aspirin I'll take to quiet down the tendonitis ache and this headache I have developed from scowling all morning. I may switch to Canadian Tylenol with codeine. Nahh. That would be too much like fun.