Psy stomp hop
This last week has been a ride to hell and back. I spent Sunday night through to Friday fucked over with Tonsilitis. On Monday it was so bad that I started throwing up everything I tried to eat, because of the antibiotics and unhappy body, and then couldn't take my medication and prescribed painkillers because of a permanently empty stomach. Eventually got a friend to bring by apples so I could do the whole browned grated apple thing, and atleast managed to keep it down so that by Wednesday when the doctor gave me an anti-nausea injection I was atleast vaguely sustained by about two apples.
I think what made the entire ordeal suck the most was the fact that live alone and had no mommy to look after me or run errands for food and medication.
Luckily by Friday I was feeling sparkly enough to socialize with
muggle_bean and co, and had a fairly relaxed, recoperative (is there such a word) weekend up until about Sunday morning, the start of our mission to The Great Escape, a psytrance music festival out in the sticks. What an awesome party, managed to get myself entirely wrecked with
Silenzo, and have spent the majority of this evening hiding in a bed trying to deal with a massive amount of sleep deprivation and brain-malfunction/post-traumatic abuse syndrome/feelings of egg-beater molestation. Think it's about time I stumble back to bed before my eyeballs decide to pop out.
Nighty night folks.
I think what made the entire ordeal suck the most was the fact that live alone and had no mommy to look after me or run errands for food and medication.
Luckily by Friday I was feeling sparkly enough to socialize with
muggle_bean and co, and had a fairly relaxed, recoperative (is there such a word) weekend up until about Sunday morning, the start of our mission to The Great Escape, a psytrance music festival out in the sticks. What an awesome party, managed to get myself entirely wrecked with
Silenzo, and have spent the majority of this evening hiding in a bed trying to deal with a massive amount of sleep deprivation and brain-malfunction/post-traumatic abuse syndrome/feelings of egg-beater molestation. Think it's about time I stumble back to bed before my eyeballs decide to pop out.
Nighty night folks.