La di da di da.
I'm lately struck with the irrational conviction that the universe is deliberately fucking with me. Which is a) not very helpful in maintaining a sane outlook on things going on in my life, and b) leading me to concoct elaborate revenge scenarios wherein I hunt down the universe and shank it in a dark alley, before fleeing over the rooftops, cackling with maniacal glee.
(I did mention the irrational part, right?)
Work, after being a constant barrage of insanity for three months, has slowed to a crawl. And spring has sprung with a vengeance. The two in combination are doing nothing for my attention span. I've spent most of today staring wistfully out the window at the bright sunshine. I want to run outside and twirl around before collapsing onto the grass, a wriggling heap of pure bliss. Okay, not really, because grass makes me all itchy and I'd look like a spastic beached manatee, but it's a nice thought.
The doctor apointment of doom went considerably better than anticipated. We came to an armed truce about certain issues, and I scored a much-needed victory in her admission and agreement with my assessment that no, my blood pressure has not actually been consistently high, but has in fact yo-yoed wildly over the last two years, and is more likely a response to ongoing anxiety issues than to my weight, which is how it's been dismissed. Score one for the fat girl (if it were because of my weight, I'd be happy to accept and deal with in in that regard. But its been obvious to me for some time that when my BP was still going up as I lost significant weight, and when it's swung between normal and extremely high in a matter of days, that something else might be afoot, and god dammit, I wanted that acknowledged).
Granted, treating the anxiety and thus the blood pressure issues medicinally is complicated by the whole infertility and trying to conceive thing. Which is a significant component of the anxiety. Oh, vicious circles, how you doth suck ass. Obviously it's time for more yoga.
(I did mention the irrational part, right?)
Work, after being a constant barrage of insanity for three months, has slowed to a crawl. And spring has sprung with a vengeance. The two in combination are doing nothing for my attention span. I've spent most of today staring wistfully out the window at the bright sunshine. I want to run outside and twirl around before collapsing onto the grass, a wriggling heap of pure bliss. Okay, not really, because grass makes me all itchy and I'd look like a spastic beached manatee, but it's a nice thought.
The doctor apointment of doom went considerably better than anticipated. We came to an armed truce about certain issues, and I scored a much-needed victory in her admission and agreement with my assessment that no, my blood pressure has not actually been consistently high, but has in fact yo-yoed wildly over the last two years, and is more likely a response to ongoing anxiety issues than to my weight, which is how it's been dismissed. Score one for the fat girl (if it were because of my weight, I'd be happy to accept and deal with in in that regard. But its been obvious to me for some time that when my BP was still going up as I lost significant weight, and when it's swung between normal and extremely high in a matter of days, that something else might be afoot, and god dammit, I wanted that acknowledged).
Granted, treating the anxiety and thus the blood pressure issues medicinally is complicated by the whole infertility and trying to conceive thing. Which is a significant component of the anxiety. Oh, vicious circles, how you doth suck ass. Obviously it's time for more yoga.