I’m sick again. It’s the fourth time this year. I always thought I had a strong immune system. I am finding that’s a load of crap.
Tonight, Toby Joe and I were to begin taking pottery classes at the Mudpit I, however, feel like I spent two days at the rear of an old diesel truck, sucking on its exhaust pipe. Naked. In the snow. Uphill. That said, after a year off, I will have to postpone my first day back as a potter. I’ll stop by and let them know I’m not flakey. I’ll meet everyone and find out what wheel I’m on. But I just can’t stay conscious for too much longer.
Tomorrow, I’m off to the doctor to find out what on earth is wrong with me. We still don’t have insurance. I am paying out-of-pocket. That pretty much sums up how badly I feel.
Finally, I’m annoyed with myself lately. (Again.) All I want to do is be cynical and spit like a pack mule, or are camels the spitters? Either way.
I don’t care.
Right now, it’s 5:30 and I’m killing time until I have to meet the husband at the ass end of the L Train.
Right now, the ass end of everything is where I belong.
Mihow 
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