It is now September...

...school is back in session, although that means (at best) I have to slow down when the little light blinks. Thanks to my schedule at work, that ain't gonna happen.

Tires are repaired, replaced, fixed, et cetera et cetera et cetera. To the tune of $400, but they're fixed. I will say this for the shop: They came across a problem, said 'We can fix it for X amount, or we can not fix it and just do what you asked. What would you like us to do?'.... Since it was a sway bar that needed straightening, I said yes. So another $100 and it made it $400. Not shabby, although we did put rent off until this paycheck.

The good news is S.o.s-u isn't going to be here for dinner Saturday. Sounds silly, but... We're having steak. And if I don't have to plan sides enough to feed the 17-year-old stomach-on-legs, then that's cool. I can get 2 ears of corn for me and Sic-un and salad enough for us and there's dinner, 'cause it can all be grilled outside. I'm not in the mood for potatoes, but that's me. Dinner Friday will be pizza or Venice take-out or something.

I'm not hungry. Of course, it is that time of the month so my stomach is fucked anyway. And it's especially bad this session. Cramping to the point of painful to walk and gee... here's a MUSCLE RELAXANT (Flexeril) that DOESN'T WORK.... Yeah. 10 mg of Flexeril and I can say it didn't really work. It made me feel a bit drunk, but I can do that with the vodka in the freezer and the beer in the fridge. But 2 days of debilitating cramps (tears, mostly, fetal position, mostly) and feeling like the world's biggest wuss....

Look, I can take a fucking tattoo needle and impale my own skin with it repeatedly and SMILE while I'm doing it. Yet I can't smile through cramps that feel like a fucking knife is being thrust repeatedly into my lower abdomen. And it's not something that you can really say 'oh, well, stretch it out, walk it off'... Doesn't work that way. I feel like a wuss for giving into the pain. I should be better than that. I should be able to smile and walk through it...
So I feel wussy.

But I am going to work tomorrow. I didn't go today, or yesterday (kinda detrimental to have to hunch over to walk anywhere), but I will go tomorrow. I don't want a written for attendance, but I'll accept another verbal, and that's what this will be.

Anyone want a barely used uterus? I'll sell you mine, cheap!