When's gonna be my time?

Optimism is not my middle, first, or last name..... it's barely in my mental dictionary of being able to define it. In the last couple of weeks, I've had a UTI - that led to the most stubborn yeast infection on the planet, and I gotta think some third world countries are capable of producing some fairly nasty shit, that's how strongly I feel about it. Then I found a lump on my arm, not very close to my boob - but how close to a boob isn't TOO fucking close right? I could have caught it's mischeif on my heel and accussed it of being a shifty military manuever to bastard it's way north. I have been in another funk (god, how gross, a literal funk). The last week has been avoidnig all bathing, frowning at a toothbrush, pretending I don't see most household chores in need, and overall just making promises to perk up when I know good and well it's a lie before I even think it. Pre-lying in your own head is a talent.

But.......

Aside from all that it is difficult to beat the happiness out of me for too very long. It's unfair to anyone looking at unhappy DM, to actually have to look at it. Today I turned off my crack, which was very hard for me as I have been out of my brain that my mega-puter has something like 18 viruses. I live on this machine, it's my biography in many ways, and my eyes well up just thinking of some bully picking on it. But for today, I turned it off and refused to hear her sobs so that I could address myself getting well. Spent time with the doglets, pryed myself out of my robe, managed to curl my hair a little, had some nutrients, and exercised. Kinda go me.

Only at 5pm did I fire my darling up and hit my emails and take a peek at the jobs that aren't there. There was a job and I applied, mostly for my log in case questioned. At 6:30 a gal called asking to take a look at me in the morning. I felt a bit like a mule who was going to be sized up by a farmer, stroking his chin, wondering if the price was worth the animal.

I've gotten excited too many times now, but damn if I'm not a stupid woman who still didn't gallop down the hallway screaming INTERVIEW!!!!!!! Fairly sure I already fucked it up a little because my phone was slipping and the cap on my pen wouldn't come off so into my mouth the pen went.... while I was still talking. I can't learn to shut up until something like that is done and end up garbling something unintelligible while I'm to interview for something requiring phones.

Whatever. Don't wish me luck. You all have been a curse with your luckish intentions. I'll have a hard enough time not wincing through it as my vagine, while healing, is still firing off those random shots of itch that make your eyes bulge while you force a smile and look extremely creepy for it to strangers. Mouth says yes, eyes, say WHAT??? Ladies, you know that particular experience.

So... that's that for now.

-DM