Allow me to preface this by saying that this won’t be the post I want it to be. I know, I know: “that’s a pretty negative outlook, Nicole.”
But so am I.
AGREE TO DISAGREE!
See, while I was wifi-less during our move, I wrote up a whole content calendar of what I wanted to write about, and I even managed to crank out a few of the posts early…but ain’t it just my luck that the very day I found myself with internet access set up in our new place, my laptop died a hideous blue screen death at the hands of a surly virus?
Thankfully I can steal away some time on Donnie’s laptop until my own gets restored, but it leaves a lot to be desired: it’s one of those mega-gaming configs that weighs in around 40 pounds and blows scalding air through the fan at roughly 35mph. It seriously sounds like a vacuum cleaner taking flight, but hey. Beggars can’t be choosers.
So! Friends! I’m back! We’re settled in all cozy-like in our very own Condo In The Woods. First the Dollhouse, then the Castle, now the CITW. It’s nestled in a gorgeous little part of town at the foot of the San Gabriels, which is lovely. We have actual seasons here! We’re probably going to even get a little bit of snow soon, which I am beyond thrilled about. WINTER IS COMING. But until then, I’ll enjoy the crisp air and fiery leaves.
Also, it’s not cursed like the Castle was, which is a major plus. I mean, if you believe in that sort of thing. Donnie is the biggest non-believer I’ve ever met, and he swears that the apartment had some sort of bad juju. I mean, he has a point. The week we moved in, I got fired for the first time. Cut to a year of nervous breakdowns and identity crises, deaths and suicides, random misfortunes and horrible accidents. Also, our gas stove kept turning itself on and trying to kill us. But hey, that’s old news. Onward!
We’ve started fresh in our Condo In The Woods, and we’re juju-free. Or we will be as soon as we shake off whatever residual grime we might have caked on…or it’s going to follow me until the day I day. Which feels like it might be any day now.
Okay, I’m exaggerating (SHOCKER). But really, my health has been in the shitter lately. Literally. I’ve been on a clear liquid diet for the past 30 hours because of a Crohn’s relapse after almost being in remission for almost four years. A relapse that was probably caused by the pharmaceutical cocktail I was tossing back three times a day due to the kidney stones I passed two weeks ago and the kidney and bladder infections that accompanied them. I think it’s official. My old man body is shutting DOWN.
So, if you’ve heard from me in the past two days, it was probably while I was destroying the bathroom. Sorry, but it’s true. My body is being evacuated from both ends, violently. Let’s talk about that do-or-die moment when I have to decide which end to put over the toilet. Do I puke all over the floor while I’m expelling what looks like minestrone soup out of my ass? Do I accidentally shit my pants while barfing up the gallons of water I’m chugging to keep from becoming dehydrated and, gods forbid, giving myself another UTI or kidney stone? It is, quite literally, a crapshoot.
And on that cheerful note, I’ll leave you with this timeless but topical request: hug your family and smile at strangers, because things are only as awful as we let them be. Even if you’re brewing up a batch of minestrone butt soup.
Tune du Jour: Til I Hear You Sing, by Ramin Karimloo. I’m wildly in love with this Persian Phantom. Enough to make me enjoy this song from the abomination that was Love Never Dies. ME GOOST.