Don't get worried about me or anything, but at times like these I so wish I was the pill popping type of person because I am pretty sure there is a pill that would slice the freakout right off of me. Yeah, I said freakout. I am totally freaking out. I reworked my book edit and taped it all together and realized immediately that it is about 30 percent too long. I'm so cranky.
I'll figure it out on the plane to Berlin.
Or when I get there.
I feel like this trip to Berlin I'm just gonna be cranky and not want to do stuff. I definitely don't want to walk around until my feet are blistered and swollen and I have to buy some birkenstocks that are too big, but I am for sure bringing those gigantic birkenstocks with me and some really thick socks too because nothing else is more comfortable than that. What I really want to bring are my hiking boots, since I have exclusively dressed in some sort of hiking boot since January I am having trouble wrapping my head around anything else. Also, my hiking boots are super comfortable. If I could be invisible I'd just spend the two weeks in hiking boots, pajamas and a down comforter. I wish I was invisible. Grad school ruined Berlin for me. (Not really, I'd totally go back on my own)
Since I don't have a family sized bathtub and no one loves me enough to install a hot tub, I think I will call it a night and go take a scalding hot shower and hit the hay.
Did I mention the dentist fiasco of yesterday? It was a bad one folks, and it involved me getting gas for two straight hours during which I kept asking the nurse to NOT turn it up anymore, but since they were hurting me they kept turning it up, like that was going to make a difference, and in the end I came very close to puking in the dentist chair and was dizzy/nauseated for hours afterwards. I'm so over having teeth too. If there was a pill for that I'd just take it and they could all be magically replaced by cold unfeeling implants. At least the implants don't hurt or smell like dirty turtle cages. Yes, I can smell my own tooth decay. Gotta love having the smell sense of a wolf. Or not.
Did I mention cranky?
Approximately 4:30 this afternoon:
Evan: What's for dinner tonight?
Me: Beef stroganoff. I'm using filet mignon.
Evan: Yum! Are you feeling guilty about something?
Me: Duh.
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