I’m sick and Dayquil and Nyquil only do so much.  Why the hell is it Nyquil, anyway?  Shouldn’t it be Niquil?  Or Nightquil?  Whatever.  Stupid drugs.

I want my damn PowerBook back from the damn Apple robots who are supposedly fixing it.  It’s been “gutted” for three days, which is not a word I want associated with anything I own.  I have no hope of my files being intact when I get it back and t’s going to be a pain in the ass getting everything set up the way I had it.  At least I have everything backed up.  (Note to Apple robots, who may discover my blog while “running diagnostics” on my comptuer”:  Please don’t hold my PowerBook hostage any longer.)

I hate doctors, nurses and people who answer phones for doctors and nurses.  I hate tests, doctors’ offices, hospitals and more tests.  I hate the vague, ambiguous way they tell you something is wrong with you without actually saying something is wrong with you.  I hate follow-up exams, because they’re like make-up math tests: if I failed it the first time, I’m going to fail it the second time.

Christmas is here.  Crap.  Where is my happy face mask and my sparkly good nature wand when I need them?  Right next to my 29th Birthday tiara, probably.

A thought: Life is not a rollercoaster, life is white water rafting and you never know when there are treacherous rocks around the next bend just waiting to fuck you up.

I need more drugs, clearly.

Posted by Kristina in Musings at 09:39 PM Permalink