I love copays.

I'm writing on my phone from my neurologist's office. My last visit started with a 1.5 hour wait and ended with a massge and acupuncture another 1.5 hours later, so I have time to type slowly.

I'm a mess again, but trying to stay in good spirits. The lightheadedness and boob/chest pain was really bad last week. My sonogram and mammogram came back fine, which is great and shitty at the same time. There isn't a piece of an implant or, thank Shizza, tumors, but there still isn't an explanation for my pain. My mom said to go to a neurologist and I'm super glad I did.

An undiagnosed/untreated inner ear infection seems to be the reason for my lightheadedness, dizziness, occassional nausea, and inability to lay down flat without getting a headache. YAY FOR AN ANSWER!! Boo for the asshole doctor who said I was depressed. Never going back to him. In fact, I'm done with male doctors. I ain't risking "this bitch be crazy" diagnosis again.

The neuro wants me to go for two MRIs on the brain and ear. Hopefully by Friday the infection will be confirmed and I can get meds and feel good once and for all. Right now I'm in her Chinatown office waiting to do some balancing tests. A kickass martial arts movie is on in the waiting room. Definitely a nice way to start a Monday.

She also thinks at this point my boob is a pulled muscle and needs some physical therapy. I've lost a lot of strength since last summer, so it really is time to get back to the gym. One last snafu of course, because apparenty 2011 and my body don't like each other - my foot spasmed on Wednesday and I'm rocking a sweet pimp limp. I already went to a podiatrist because I'm my doctor nazi mother's daughter. It's not broken, but the doc wrapped it and said to stay off my feet for a few days. Sorry bub, but that's not an option in this city.

My Ruth Clare alter ego is taking over. I seemed to have turned 83 and not 33 this month. My ridiculous amount of ailments and doctor's visits this year are comical at this point. Tomorrow I'll probably wake up with a dick growing out of my forehead. Call me Screwicorn.

Ta da!

I'm back! HOLLA!

I haven't felt very Thighs McGee lately. Not in a bad way, I just haven't thought much about writing. This is what's new:

1. My birthday party was excellent. Good times, good friends, and good Guinness. We hung out at Flannery's until about 11pm, then the Astoria crew went over to Crazy Ass for a nightcap. A three hour nightcap. I think I got home at 2:30am. It was the first time in quite a while that I drank a lot. I was a little nervous, but all was well. Too well perhaps because I haven't really stopped drinking or staying out late since then. That weekend Jarv and I barhopped around the neighborhood. This past week included staying out until 1:30am on both Wednesday and Thursday, not going out UNTIL 3am on Friday, taking a break Saturday, then drinking from noon until 8pm today. I feel fine, but Bethany Beergut is back and I'm tired. So tired. I am not drinking this week until Friday when MY BROTHER COMES TO VISIT! It's a last minute work trip. I'm so excited to see him!!

2. Work is getting better!! I wanted to get some stuff done this weekend, but that was a total fail (see above). I feel a bit shitty about it, so no more drinking or late nights during the week for me anymore. I plan on getting in early tomorrow to get ahead. My boss was in three days last week, which was nice and comforting. She said I'm doing a great job and apologized for being m.i.a. Things seem to be simmering down for her, so I'm hoping this is when things will start picking up for me. She made mention of getting me and apartment in Philly for the month of July because I'm apparently going to be spending a ton of time there, so that's pretty cool. Also the Chicago project manager quit, so there may be an opportunity for me to go there as well. WRIGLEY!

Things are really looking up. The birthday drama freakout was a blessing in disguise. I was burying my nerves and trying to play it cool and be patient, but let's face it - patience is not my thing.

3. You know what's my thing? Or things rather? Boobs. It never occurred to me that I'm so boob-centric because of my, what do I call it, plight? Nah. That sounds religious. My situation? Eh. My boob chapter? Yeah, my boob chapter.

I recall being a boob girl before all that happened anyways, probably because as a kid my parents would make me go in the other room when they knew a nude scene was coming up in a movie. I'd naturally sneak a peek, not because I wanted to see naked chicks, but because I was curious as to what I wasn't allowed to see and really good at being defiant.

Anyhoo, my boob chapter is still writing itself. I still sleep propped up, usually wear a bra to bed, and rarely lift my arms or jump around. I've lost so much muscle since July that I suck at arm wrestling now, something I was quite proud of being good at considering I never worked out that much to begin with. I was an altoid, curiously strong and really white.

In my drunken birthday stupor I "accidentally" danced and bounced around way too much. My boob/chest muscle has been hurting ever since. Today's the first day it doesn't feel so bad. I wrote "accidentally" because at this point there is no fucking reason I shouldn't be able to dance, raise my arms, or do anything. It's been seven months since surgery and four months since I hurt myself on Thanksgiving. It sucks.

I don't want to go back to the asshole plastic surgeon ever, ever again so I went to my gyno to get a referral for a breast specialist. I called two of the tops ones and unfortunately they won't see me because I don't have cancer. Yes, it's a good thing I don't have it, but once they heard the word "implant" I felt there was a bit of condescension in the nurses' voices. Fuck you, fuckbag. It's not what you think. After I told them the story they eased up, but still wouldn't see me so I decided to go to for a mammogram/sonogram on my own. This way if something is wrong at least then maybe a specialist will be more willing to help. If there's nothing there I may go for an MRI and see a sports doctor. I read pulled chest muscles are a bitch, so maybe I have to treat it like it's a sprained ankle or something. Who knows. All I do know is I wish this fucking chapter would end.

The good news is the girls are still even. I feel pretty healthy otherwise, except I still get the lightheadedness and back of head headaches a few times a week. Oh well.

4. Boys. There's always one. Or four. The Gentleman and I had lunch the other day. I never ended up officially breaking it off and at this point there's no need. We are definitely in friend territory and I'm happy to stay there.

On St. Patty's Day I reached my two guy kiss quota. One was Will from last year. I saw him at the bar, we chatted, no big deal. Then on my walk home he came up on his bike and we walked together for a bit (he lives across the street from me). As I was saying good-bye he rammed his tongue down my throat. It was fine and I laughed it off, but I do not not NOT want to be with that guy. He's fucking nuts!

Even nuttier - the other guy I made out with was the fat member of the Ultimate Dickfuck Dodgeball team. Crazy, right? I didn't recognize him for a while, but I knew he looked familiar. When we figured it out I turned all red and starting yelling about how his team ruined dodgeball for me. Dramatic, much? Fa!

While he's much thinner and handsomer now, I'm not that into him. I'll probably go out for a drink or something just to be sure. One never can tell on St. Patty's Day.

The fourth dude of late is MD. Shocking. We've been spending a lot of time together again. He came out for my birthday, we hung out that weekend, this past Wednesday, and everyday this weekend. Now that I finally know some details about his past relationship and where he's at in his head other than "I don't want a serious relationship" I've become more calm and detached. We're not each other's taco lobster and that's okay.

I decided my soulmate's nickname is Big Red. I haven't met him yet, but I know he's out there. For some reason I'm not quite ready to look yet, probably because of work and boob chapter. I need some more time. I told myself March will be about getting back to Me and April will be about finding my We.

Oh and I'm over the guy Rem at work. I definitely want to be friends with him, though!

Shit it's late...why don't I sleep anymore!?!? Gah!

Happy Birthday?

Ummm...I just woke up to a horrible burning smell choking me in my sleep.

I heard someone on the roof, so I opened the door and waited a couple of minutes for them to come down. A very hot fireman said the boiler blew up and if I smell anything in my apartment it's okay, just open the windows.

It smelled so fucking bad that I threw on my coat and went outside. Only two other neighbors were down there (I live in a sixteen apartment building). They were all freaked out because they actually felt the building shake when it happened.

I'M freaked because I slept through it all. Why didn't the alarms go off? Why didn't the firemen knock on doors? I guess I should feel safe they didn't feel it was necessary to evacuate the building, but I don't. GAH!

It still smells so bad in here. I hope I can sleep!

The good news is besides my apartment building not blowing up and you know, death, I wasn't born until 5:07am, so technically it's not really my birthday yet.

I'm smiling.

Rem, the guy I like at work, gave me a birthday present. I can't get over it!! We bonded over discussions of good beer, so he bought me a bottle of Great Divide Yeti because that's his favorite brewery and I told him I like stouts. HOW SWEET IS THAT?

I'll ask again...HOW SWEET IS THAT??

He totally made my day. I haven't stopped smiling, except when I think about how Rockstar hasn't called me back after going for a run in the park with a bum knee. WILL YOU PLEASE CALL ME BACK?

I really, really like his company and am excited to hang out and get to know him better. I like him. I'm sure we'll eventually make out because that's what I do best, but I feel like there's more to this connection. I sense my life is going to be better having met him.

SWEET.

No Philly!

Yaaaaayyy! Party on, Wayne! Party on, Garth!

God I forgot about those movies...

Yaaaaayyy!

Oh bloody hell.

Are you kidding me with this shite? I unsubscribed 89 times! Fuck you and your swirly lamb!

Happy Almost Birthday to Me!

My birthday gift...an R2D2 Droid 2! WOO HOO! It makes Artoo noises when the phone rings!



It is my first smartphone, so I'm now turning into one of those annoying people who check in on Foursquare and update Facebook all of the time. (I can hear Juniper yelling at me.) I'm toying with the idea of starting a Twitter account, too. Toying.

Actually I did have internet access on my first cellphone back in 2001, but all I did was check Yahoo seventeen times a day to see if Softball Pat emailed me. I wonder if he's on Facebook...

Anyhoo, I love it. I will leave no seafood restaurant unturned.

Eight Years

MD and I finally talked last night. It went very well. I don't have much time to go into it at the moment (I have actual work to do, hooray!), but I can't think straight. Two words keep running through my head: eight years. He and his ex were together for eight years.

I can't fathom being with someone that long, let alone breaking up with someone after that long.

We are on complete opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to where we are in life right now. I am done with being single while he is enjoying (?) being single for the first time since college. Do you know how many guys I slept with while he was in a relationship? DO YOU? I'm asking becuase I lost count.

I don't know how I feel about this yet. I'm a hopeless romantic. I don't like to think love is based on timing because fuck time. If I truly love someone I would want to be with them no matter what is going on in my life because I wouldn't be able to live without them.

I know "love" wasn't in the cards for MD and I. I felt like I was falling in love with him, but he definitely wasn't falling in love with me. It's just that I've never been serious about someone before. Tat and I talked about moving in together, but I knew it wasn't going to happen. I would have dropped everythig for MD if he asked. He never did.

I find myself wondering what the point was again, sort of like I did with the Banana drama. WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT? Why did I have to meet someone who is not ready for a relationship when for the first time in my life I'M ready for one?? Yes I know, even if he was ready it doesn't mean he'd want to be with me. Hell, he could get hit with Cupid's arrow tomorrow and end up married by the end of the year. Kill me if that happens.

Then again, that could happen to me too...

GAH. I hate dating. HATE IT. I'm done. I'm done done done done done*.



*Lie lie lie lie lie.

Farts!

That is all.

I'm a regular.

Here's how much time and money I spend at Crazy Ass:



And remember, I haven't really been drinking the past few weeks. I probably won't be there as much now that MD and I are through. Still no official discussion about a break-up, although he did finally call me last night. I texted him a short, breezy, no-response-required-response this morning. I really have nothing to say at this point. I'm done.

I'm sure I'll easily find another place to blow $300 a month.

Call Me Bronto

THUNDER THIGHS!

'Twas a great weekend!

Friday night I got some tacos and a beer with Jarv.

Saturday I went to the gym, cooked some eggs (by myself!), watched Modern Family, went to Swaft for a burger and drink with Jarv, came home, watched more Modern Family, then The Social Network.

Sunday Juniper and I went to the Whitney Museum for the Edward Hopper exhibit then off to Luke's Lobster for dinner (the lobster rolls are divine).

Yesterday I cooked some eggs (by myself!), exercised at home, did my taxes ($1K coming my way!), went to Crazy Ass with Bakes and Jarv, then did laundry.

In between all of those things I slept and meditated. It was the perfect relaxing weekend.

I will admit I was pretty sad about MD at times. I had some good soul-cleansing laugh-cries, so I'm well on my way to being over him. Today was the first day I got angry about him, though. I'm not sure if this is a setback or not. I'D LIKE TO BASH HIS FACE IN. Thoughts?

Another setback - I feel stupid. I should have known better, but I followed my heart and went for it anyways. Oh well. The six months I wasted on him is nothing in the grand scheme of things. At least it's over. Well to clarify, it's not technically over, but we haven't spoken since Wednesday. I don't want to call him, I know he won't call me, and OH YEAH, we were never really together so there's nothing to end!! JERKSTORES FTW!!

Here are some one-liner emails I'd like to send him:

"I am no longer interested in your services."

"Please remove my phone number from your list of contacts."

"I'd greatly appreciate if you ignore me at Crazy Ass for the rest of eternity."

"I beat your Photo Hunt score under the name FUCK YOU."

ARGH. Now I'm all red again. I need another relaxing weekend stat!

Happy Thoughts!

I'm taking this MD thing one day at a time. Today I feel okay about my decision! Sure I cried a couple of times, but that's not a bad thing. I needed it.

Work was fun this week. I was made the point person for user validation issues, which means I have to help them resolve any differences they find between the old and new system data. Most of the time it's because the person didn't read the documentation correctly, but every once in a while something new and nerd-interesting comes up.

For example, a record in the new system had the date 1/1/1900 and the same record from the old system in the Excel spreadsheet they were comparing it to had 1/2/1900. When I checked the old system source table in Access the record read 1/1/1900. I thought, well maybe it's a copy and paste issue. I was right! If you copy 1/1/1900 from an Access table it will read 1/2/1900 when you paste it into Excel. A Google search said this is a known Excel bug that has to do with Lotus 123 and 2/28/1904 being a leap year. All dates prior to 2/28/1904 are off by one in Excel and Access.

Now I thought that was the answer, but then I just checked this theory in Excel and actually I don't think that's the full reason. If you turn dates into a General format a number pops up (ex: 2/18/11 = 39130). Nerd-interesting, you know what date number 1 is? 1/1/1904. It has to be related to the copy and paste issue, right? I don't have Access on my Mac, so I can't keep digging...

See what happens when I don't drink on Friday nights?

A new guy named Zebra started this week. I like him! When I first met him on Tuesday I got a bit nervous because he has a legal accounting background and I don't. I later realized that I will learn a ton from him and who knows, maybe some healthy competition will be good for me. Now I hope he becomes my new work husband!

I think going to the client office every day is going to be good for me. I like meeting new people, the commute is super fast, and it's way too easy to get sucked into myself (heh) at home.

Oh by the way, today I decided a vagina is an inbox and an ass is an outbox.

I wasn't feeling well this week again. I was getting super lightheaded whenever I walked around. Yesterday was really bad - I had to stop twice to get my bearings while walking during lunch, then I practically had to coach myself out of the office and onto the subway to go home. I know my doctors think it's stress/depression and maybe they're right, but that's not fair. Something's off. While I might be overweight I am not obese or deathly unfit. I walk all of the time, I climb my four flights and subway stairs with no problem. Having to stop after a 15 minute walk is wrong. It fucking sucks that they won't take me seriously.

Yes, I have to admit that the MD stress is bothering me, but really? Come on! This lightheaded thing has been going on for a fucking year now. Did I already say it's not fair???

This morning was hard, but I'm feeling okay now. The more it happens, the less I panic, so that helps. Not that I want this to be a regular occurrence, but not freaking out is making it easier to deal with. Same thing with my food intolerance. Today I might have pushed it a little much with the bread/sugar. I ate a Clif protein bar, lots of fruit, half a turkey sandwich with the bread, two chicken tacos with the tortillas, and half a Guinness. I couldn't finish my beer because I hit the wall. It's sort of like being bloated on the inside, if that makes any sense.

I was a little worried that I'll be all fucked up tomorrow, but I shut that down. The intolerance only started this year, so it's going to take some time to figure out how much I can handle. It's not like I downed a bag of chips or pretzels, which interestingly enough I keep having dreams that I do and then spit them all out. Obviously this is on my mind.

My relationship with food is changing so much. I was always a big eater. A loaded eater. Whether it's salad or cereal or a burger, I love lots of stuff on it. Now I have to really think about what I'm eating and plan. It's a good thing.

Speaking of plans, I don't have many this weekend and I'm super excited about it. Juniper and I might check out a museum and Jarv and I might go to brunch. Other than that I plan on watching my Netflix (Modern Family is so good!), hitting the gym (whether I feel up to it or not), doing my taxes, and being nice to myself. The only person I've thought about this past month was MD. That's it. Sure I'm a self-involved blogger, but I seriously have not put myself first in weeks. This weekend I plan to do just that.

Happy thoughts!

And the real kicker is...

MD's not even a ginger. What the fuck am I wasting my time for??

Side note - I was walking to the subway yesterday and this guy in front of me had GORGEOUS long red hair. Now I hate guys with long hair, probably because I can't grow any, but his was acceptable.

I said, "Excuse me sir. Your hair is awesome." He chuckled, we chatted for a second, said good night, and then had that awkward moment of walking at the same pace in silence. Luckily he was smart enough to jaywalk across the street to get away from me.

It was funny. GINGERVITIS.

I'm done.

Last night my friend Sy was guest bartending at Crazy Ass. I didn't want to go because I was still so disappointed with MD. I know it's a shame that I let his lack of Valentine get to me so much, but I can't help it. I deserve to be with someone who wants me to be their sweetheart.

It felt different when MD came in. I tried to act normal, but I could feel the wall up. I wanted to just get through the night without any drama, talks, or tears.

WELL. It would have been fine if it wasn't for my "friend" Wheat. Wheat is a regular. We hit it off as soon as we met a few months ago and had what I thought was a nice connection. Our conversations were real and honest, not just fluffy bar talk. I was attracted to him in the "Aw Wheat!" way, but I didn't want to be more than friends. Unfortunately we ended up kissing on New Year's Eve. MD wasn't there, I was drunk and lonely, it was New Year's, and I really did like Wheat. I just didn't want to date him.

I didn't think this would ever be an issue. We talked about it since and there was no indication that he had any ill will toward me about it. He even gave me advice about MD a couple of weeks ago saying that I shouldn't get hung up on labeling our relationship if we both care about each other. I thought that was nice.

WELL. For whatever reason, last night Wheat decides to announce that he and I made out. MD was like "WAIT. WHAT?!?" I have never seen or heard MD react that fast to anything. You would think if Wheat was my friend he would have done damage control realizing that MD was obviously upset, but NOOOOOO, he goes, "Oh what you guys never discussed this? It was in a locked bathroom and everything. Uh oh did I make things awkward?" IT WAS SO FUCKING MEAN!

Now yes, maybe I shouldn't have been a tongueslut at "our" bar, but this was when I thought MD and I were through. And yes, maybe I should have told MD just in case, but seriously IT WAS NOTHING. I never, ever thought this would come up, especially not like this. Fucking Wheat. I can't believe him!

The night was already awkward for me with the whole Valentine's Day crap. Throw this on top and the night was flat out ruined. I'm so sick of this story that I won't go into the details of what happened, but basically it was me apologizing and MD saying he doesn't care. He was hurt and was trying to hurt me back. He succeeded. I feel ridiculously guilty too, but what the fuck? HE'S the one who didn't want a commitment!

On my way to the bar last night I had pretty much decided I was done with MD. I am not in love with him, I am in love with the guy I want him to be. I want him to be this pensive soul-searcher who has such deep feelings he can't find the words to express them. His muteness is his burden and gift.

Fuck that. I've put up with this way too fucking long. While last night wasn't ideal, it was still an opportunity for him to say how he felt about me. Or you know, VALENTINE'S DAY was. He didn't and you know why? Because nothing's changed since we last spoke about it in the beginning of December. He doesn't want to be with me.

I finally don't want to be with him anymore, either. I'm done. I seriously do not think there is anything he could possibly say to change my mind right now. If he ever fucking spoke!

BLERG!

I feel like me!

I finally feel like myself again. The last three weeks sucked. I still don't know what the hell was wrong, but I don't care. I'm better now. Today is the first day my head, neck, elbow, stomach, brain, mind, and soul feel good. THANKS, TODAY!

I lowered my thyroid meds on Sunday and I know it's too soon to really feel a difference, but I believe I do. It's probably more mental than physiological, but whatever. Mental's what I do best.

I really wanted to go to the gym this morning, but I ended up having to rush into the office for a training session. It was the first time I actually felt comfortable with the idea that I could stay home if I wanted to and it sort of bit me in the ass. Oops. I'll be going in to the office everyday now for a while. I don't mind (considering that's what I'm used to), I just really need to start bringing my lunch. The one deli by the office charges $10 for a salad!

Speaking of food, I added a bit of bread and carbs back into my diet. Oatmeal and potatoes are fine. I had two Guinness the other night and felt okay. I ate a wrap for lunch today and yesterday. All good. I'm still not ready to eat a sandwich or pasta yet, though. I don't care what the doctors said. Something's up with me and too much sugar...

HOLY CRAP! I forgot to write about this...I USED MY OVEN ALL BY MYSELF THIS WEEKEND! I made MD brownies. I was clammy and nervous the whole 27 minutes they baked, but I did it! YAY! Next up, a big meal for myself so that I can enjoy leftovers all next week. I will be the next Iron Chef.

Tonight I treated myself to a haircut and highlights. I spent way too much, but considering I haven't gotten my hair professionally colored or bleached in at least two years I figured I was due. Plus I really needed a change. I like how it came out. I'd take a picture, but I'm all red for some reason. It's a lighter bob with bangs. I had the same hairstyle when I was 2. I feel younger.

The Gentleman wanted to hang out tonight before he goes out of town again for the weekend. I said I was busy. I feel bad, but I didn't want to lead him on. I'll talk to him when he gets back. The truth is even if I wasn't seeing MD again, I don't think The G-man and I are a good fit. I really do think he's a great person, though.

There's a guy at work I find interesting. I'm sort of attracted to him. He's cute, wears nice fitting clothes (I had no idea this meant something to me), and really seems to know his shit. The clothes thing made me wonder if he's gay, but I'm pretty sure he was checking out my rack yesterday. I'm surprised I'm even writing about him. Let's call him Rem.

Why AM I writing about him? I don't know...I want to be with MD, but I'm afraid to talk to him about how I feel. How sad is that? Me, the biggest loudest oversharingest emotionalest obnoxitard is too shy and scared to talk to my fake boyfriend about the chances of him becoming my real boyfriend one day. I'm not good at dating, am I? Blerg.

I'm trying to not think about last year since things have been different between us the past month, but I feel like I felt at the end of November. I'm not sure I can hold in my feelings much longer. We're hanging out tomorrow night, so I'll see how it goes. Wish me luck. NO SHOTS.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I like Valentine's Day.

Unfortunately the only time I ever had a boyfriend for it was Psycho Joe back when I was 19. I'm pretty sure we got a hotel room since we were both living at home. I'm pretty sure I bought some lingerie. I'm also pretty sure that if I'm writing "pretty sure" that it was not memorable and doesn't really count.

PJ and I broke up in January and made a half-assed attempt at a reconciliation through February, but we weren't really together. I'm pretty sure we went to Red Lobster and I am absolutely sure he bought me Box of Pearls: The Janis Joplin Collection because I love that box set. That was eleven years ago. Balls.

MD and I went out to dinner the other night. I had a really great time (YAY!), but we still haven't had The Talk yet. Well, we haven't had it since the beginning of December after my Thanksgiving Meltdown. While a lot of things have changed since then, I am afraid to find out his mind hasn't.

We texted a bit earlier. I asked him to hang out tonight, but he had to work late. I don't know what's worse, not having anyone to like on Valentine's Day or not being able to be with the person I like on Valentine's Day. It would have been so eassssyyy for him to blow my mind today, but he didn't.

Look I know it's just a day and if MD proposed to me tomorrow it wouldn't matter, it's just that for whatever reason I am a 33 year old spinster who has gotten her heart broken a zillion times yet SOMEHOW still likes Valentine's Day. I'd really like to share it with someone for once and this year I wanted it to be him.

Oh well. At least it's not as upsetting as the shit with Banana last year. I wouldn't have minded riding a mechanical bull again, though! Shit, did I ever even write about that? Me and some of the girls went on an Anti-Valentine's Day pub crawl that started at Cheap Shots (actual name of bar) and ended at Mason Dixon (ditto) for some bull riding. I made a map and everything!



It was the best Valentine's Day I ever had. Remind me to drink next year.

I may...

or may not have hurt my elbow in the shower by slamming it into the tile ledge as I was pretending to punch an imaginary girl at an imaginary bar who was messing with an imaginary MD.

Did it really happen?

You decide.

You know what?

I don't buy the depression diagnosis. I'm an emotional worrywart who drinks too much, exercises too little, obsesses over things out of my control, and waits too long to change the things I can. I will admit I have been pretty down the past couple of weeks because I don't feel well, but I do not believe it's depression. So fuck you, doc. Would you be so quick to say it was depression if I was a dude?

I definitely could use some help with stress management, so I will be going back to therapy. I have a good life, there's no reason I should be this anxious and uncomfortable.

I got an email from The Gentleman on Wednesday. He was really sick and is now travelling for the next week and a half. I decided I'll wait to have the talk when he comes back. I felt bad calling it quits when he doesn't feel well.

MD and I hung out last night. Awesome. That is all.

I felt really great yesterday. First time in three weeks. YAY! Today I feel okay, except for the splitting headache and now neck pain. I don't think it's related to food or stress or DEPRESSION (jerk). It's probably because I'm carrying my laptop everywhere, looking down at it as opposed to looking up at a desktop monitor, and started sleeping laying flat again after two months of sleeping sitting up post-surgery. Well, post-pulled chest muscle. DUDE. I solemnly swear to be the healthiest I have ever been in my entire life starting now.

My only plans for this weekend are to cook and rest. I'm feeling a little hermity, but I think it's because I just want to save all my energy for getting better. Done and done.

The results are in.

My doctor said my test results are fine. Yay! He also said it must be depression. Boo! : ) :

At this point there's nothing left to do except go back to therapy and Auntie D. Naturally I have mixed emotions about this. Right now I feel like I failed. Oh well. At least I tried.

A couple of things did stand out on my bloodwork to me though:

My TSH/thyroid score is lower than it's ever been, so my fatigue and headaches could be related to too much Synthroid. This makes sense considering my dosage was upped the beginning of January. I am going to lower it again and see what happens.

My hemoglobin was a little high. The doctor didn't seem phased by this, but when I looked online (I can't stop, it's too dangerous!) I am in the pre-diabetic range with a 5.7. I'm not sure why he ignored this considering the reactions I had to sugar the past few weeks. I guess it's because there's really nothing to do besides keep watching my diet (I lost eight pounds!) and start exercising.

So there ya have it. I am a healthy menthole who needs to lay off sweets. Welcome to America.