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September 9, 45 degrees I actually wasn't trying to be funny yesterday when I said I'm a wilted shadow. I was quite serious when I wrote it and I thought it was very profound. Oftentimes I can make fun of my problems - or my reaction to my problems - because I know that they aren't really problems, not in the grand scheme of things. But sometimes I get all into it, like I have been these past couple weeks. But I just reread that and was like, huh, that's a little melodramatic, kid. But yeah I've been a wilted shadow, combining two metaphors in an unsophisticated and nonsensical way, but when you're deep in the throes of agony you don't care about shit like that. Last night I was crying so hard I was nearly hyperventilating, and my eyes were puffy about it, so before I went to bed I put some cucumber slices on my eyes (that's one use for cucumbers) while I tried to use my goddamn mini-TENS unit on my toes, and this morning it's not puffy under my eyes but my eyelids are big and fat, like a losing boxer's. The puppy and his roommate will be gone another month now and I will continue to be a weak and sniveling idiot. This gives me more time to read Gone With The Wind, though. Right now, Scarlett has just returned to Tara and is finding out about all the havoc wreaked in the neighborhood by the Yankees. Melanie is still alive, as is the cow. The poor horse died. :( I've already said this but the book is better than the movie, guys. Think what you will of the movie but the book is its own thing. Which isn't to say it doesn't deserve criticism. It does, but for itself and not for the crap the movie created. I'm fine now, at least for today. The puppy's roommate sent some pictures of the two of them and the puppy looks like he's aged seven dog summers! (Because he has.) I miss them both terribly. What I've been flipping out about is that I've convinced myself that they'll be moving to Colorado permanently and he just hasn't told me about it yet. And that may happen but... UPDATE ON TOES: The big toe on my left foot, after hurting all goddamn year and hurting quite horribly for the last month, has, upon hearing that I'd made a doctor's appointment, stopped hurting entirely. It's fine now! No gout! No bunion! Just a kind, caring toe sitting there on the edge of my foot. The second toe on my right foot, though, has decided that there's no use living and has shrouded itself in a blanket of inflammation and pain. It won't move down without hurting or clicking, it won't move up without hurting, it won't let me walk in a normal fashion at times. Is the swelling going down, now that I'm taking that anti-inflammatory that I can never remember the name of? (I'm calling it mucinex, meloflax, menocam, meloxicam! Meloxicam! It's meloxicam!) I don't know if the swelling is going down yet, but it's not going up. Never mind, I just went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and it's definitely puffy under my eyes. I look like a maniac.
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