The Nothing Weekend

I woke up early to go for bloodwork this morning. The Gentleman and I were going to have breakfast around 11am, but he hasn't returned my call. This is very uncharacteristic of him, based on the 28 days I've known the bloke.

I'm feeling okay, which this week means my head is killing me, I'm wiped out, but I'm functional. I can't wait for "okay" to be back to it's usual definition of "healthy and discontent."

The doctor is testing me for a whole bunch of things: basic panel screenings, mono, anemia, food allergies, household allergies (cockroach is actually included), and autoimmune diseases, including lupus. I know nothing about lupus other than Mercedes on the first season of America's Next Top Model had it and she was tired all of the time. My symptoms are so general that it could be anything, but one thing that stuck out on lupus is a rash on your nose and cheeks. Maybe I don't have rosacea.

And MMMAAAYYBBE I should stop reading Webmd for fuck's sake. It's porn for neurotics.

The doctor also dropped the dreaded "d" word. Depression. Yeah, buddy. I know.

I originally wanted to stay in and do nothing this weekend, but now I'm wondering if I'm better off going out. Not to drink of course, just to be among the living. MD and I might get dinner tomorrow. I still feel like Sunday is our day, even without football (I have zero interest in the Pro Bowl). We'll see.

Geez, The Gentleman is going to need a new nickname if he doesn't call soon. Oh well. I don't think I'm good at liking two people at once anyways.