Hitting a Wall

I did it.  I bought peanut butter three days ago.  The miracle?  It isn’t totally gone yet, although I am suffering from a slight PB overdose this morning.  I believe the key is that I bought the boring, no-sugar kind.  It’s called “natural PB” and the only ingredients are salt and peanuts.  I’m sure my vegan friend, Jen, and my GOM (Goddess of Mindfulness) are probably doing a little cheer for me right now.  If I were you, I’d buy stock in organic PB.  The prices might be rising with me as a consumer.

When I was in the middle of my six week battle with bronchitis/strep throat/general ickiness in December/January, I coughed so much that I tore the intercostal space in between my ribs on my right side.  When I was sick a few days ago from eating Klonopin like M&M’s, I pulled it out of whack again.  Now, I can’t cough, sneeze, or laugh without screaming out loud and taking the Lord’s name in vain experiencing intense pain.  Where’s my PT sister when I need her?  Oh, that’s right…she’s in Seattle doing a “clinical” and eating lots of clam chowder because she knows it makes me jealous.

I’m sure the world is tired of hearing about how I can’t sleep, but DAMMIT.  Another night goes by with minimal sleep.  I believe I slept and woke up screaming several times quite fitfully from 11:00p- 2:30a.  I suppose that would be all right if I were old my dad’s age and needed five hours of sleep per night, but I do much better on eight and right now I’m working off of a deficit.  I’m about to give up and go score some marijuana and some vodka, which always worked well during my college years. 

Someone should light a candle for my clients today.  I’m aiming for professionalism and empathy, but it’s going to take a lot of caffeine to get there. 

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