Fed up

I am fed up with the stupid pills.

I am not that upset with pain.
It really isn't​ all that bad for me.
It is a very mild flare.

I was upset with the deterioration in my hands, but nothing seems to be helping with the restrictions being imposed on my tendons. Indeed, it seems to be worse on the medication. I have three fingers which used to bend wot no longer do.

I only wanted to see a specialist because the disease was impacting on my ability to work, but medication appears to have a worse affect.

If I were rich and didn't have to work, I would persist.

... but fuck this for a lark ...

The stupid medication makes me sad.
I am randomly crying.

I have a nice, pleasant, no stress life.
I've worked hard too make it so.

I should not be crying into my​ dinner.

I will ring tomorrow to cancel the follow up appointment.

I have finally gotten round to buying a cd player, and am enjoying Bach's cello suites. Ta yo-yo Maa. You is da boom, hey?

You do me much more good than the silly pills.

Pill night Thursday ...

... so intense dreams.

First dream, started as a home invasion of my current abode. Managed to get a call off to 000 before the tyre-iron welding men got in, then unexplainably relocated to my grandmothers home (but which is a frequent location for my dreams).

Towards the end of the dream, with the police never showing up, I had skin tags and warts noted by my main attacker on my arms and shoulders and he decided that he would cut them off and excise them without any form of anesthetic or alcohol.  My semi naked figure was tied to a table whilst he cut and sewed with black thread.

Dream two was lovely and involved me travelling repetatively through mustard, blue, green and pink corridors and stairs. The green being my favourite because I tapshoed and shuffled my way down them too joyous music.  These are the colours my grandmothers houses walls were painted. A colour for each wall. Apparently it was the fashion at the time. My mother picked the colours out.

Dream three consisted of my current abode crumbling and sinking into the earth. I was trying to rescue my books.  It started with a leak in the bathroom wall that slowly ate the concrete away and ended with my whole family there, but not being much help and myself squirralling through openings to get to the closed off rooms to throw my books out the windows to safety.

My situation not helped with being unable to call ghe landlaord straight away because we had to clean the kitchen and lounge before he saw it, because I am such a messy person.

Dream two was lovely.
I wish I had more like them.

They're usually more like dream one and two, though they are exciting and interesting too.

I love dreaming :)

Oops

I have been raised with a hetrosexual viewpoint, but still keep in mind childhood crushes on admired girls/teachers and do not rule them out, but am not a sexual being.

Indeed sex seems like a great deal of exercise for a muscle spasm.

I have never had a girl on girl relationship, though I have been assumed to be lesbian by others in the past.  At the schhols I went to girls didn't mix much with boys, and after that I have mostly always worked with older women.

I admire and adore a friend met online named Bec. She is awesome.  She is also beautiful, intelligent and talented.  I would feel inferior in her presence if she were not so lovely.  Instead, she makes you feel more ept and enabled and smarter, just being around her.

There is a young lady with a boyish look (a cross of Bec and a boy I was in love with when I was six) who works at the local supermarket.

She crosses all my wires and I stutter like a fool when she serves me.