put a big C on my chest because…

I am a super crab today. First off, I–queen of compression socks–couldn’t get my compression socks on on the first attempt, and then I couldn’t get them on on the second attempt, either. Now I have one on correctly, and the other on wrong, because I got sick of the entire thing. I was hot and sweaty before I even got out of the bedroom. UGH.

Like a stupe, I bought black compression socks, because I thought they would look more interesting. I failed to take into consideration that, GOT notwithstanding, summer was coming. And it has arrived, early and gross.

I realized my error about a week and a half ago and ordered some white compression stockings online. Once again, the post office has allegedly lost my order. It’s amazing how often this happens between the time a shipping lable has printed and the time the post office receives the package. I mean, you’d think occasionally something would get lost after being scanned in at the USPS. You’d also think that things would occasionally be found again. Is there somewhere a big room full of lost ebay and marketplace items?

Yeah, I think I’m being bullshitted.

Anyway, they’re supposedly sending “another” order. Not that I believe they ever sent the first one. [Epithet here.]

Second off, plumbing issues in the kitchen. Mr Moth is working on it, but it is beginning to feel never-ending. It is making him crabby, and crabbiness ripples outward.

I have to hand carry Horton’s memory card to the HME company because the envelope didn’t arrive in time for me to mail it in and have the data sent to my pulmonologist by Monday, and I am really sick of medical crap taking over my life. I have other stuff to do.

I’m pretty sure the latest medication changes are what is making me feel like a rug, and I’m not happy about that, either. First medical stuff sucks the life out of me, then it uses up whatever energy I have left plus 1d4.


I turn fifty tomorrow.

Happy birthday to me.
Rhymes with the BMV.
Where they give me a sticker
In exchange for all my money.

So add the BMV to my list of errands. Also, as mentioned above, it is hot. Berta’s air conditioning is permanently borked, as in I refuse to pay more than I paid for her to fix it. So I get to cook in my black socks while running errands.

I’m crabby but not quite hateful, so I still hope everybody has a good idea today.

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