(no subject)
I'm at home, and my asthma is being a right bitch. It only really gets bad in Newcastle in the cold (and random times it decides to wake me up at night for an extra dose of STEROIDS OMG!) but here I remember why I carry my reliever round like my life depends on it. It's because my life does sort of depend on it.
That may be a little melodramatic, but since I've been home I've actually lost count of how many times I've taken it. I was at five in one day when I gave up. And I've only taken it when it's actually getting hard to breathe. ):
No actual wheezing, though, so that's a bonus.
Damn cats and their FUR.
In other news, I've planned all the fics I've had requested so far! Now to the actual writing! :D And if you want a short ficlet of your very own, I'm still taking prompts here.
(PS Chekov and Sulu are adorable and I would like pocket versions of both to keep my pocket Much company. That is all.)