I miss my Meth Mondays. If I only forgot trivial things, like the ten thousand and one weird facts or lines from movies or television shows that I carry with me on my day-to-day journeys, like a sack of
A coffee cup is a sneaky thing. It escapes my clutches, either dashing with all its caffeinated sweetness, charging the barrier that it (was?) my laptop, or disappearing from the spot I had laid it down just a moment before.
I’m not a morning person. I’ve never been a morning person. As a kid, I’d lay my sleeping bag down on the floor and go to bed fully dressed so that I’d have more time to sleep in the morning
There is something to be said for realizing I had forgotten that I have Rheumatoid Disease (Rheumatoid Arthritis). It sounds kind of crazy: I take two shots a week specifically for the disease; I walk with a cane more often
The problem with being over 40 is that I don’t know if whatever symptoms I’ve having are from a) aging b) being overweight or c) Rheumatoid Disease or d) some freaky weird thing that just happens status post 40. After
In March and April of 2015, I was referred twice to two separate rheumatologists. First, I was referred to the only one in-network, who, incidentally, didn’t have an available appointment until December. A nine month waiting period, and that was
Nothing screams Saturday morning like seven days’ worth of pills, finally arranged in their cubbies, grouped by time and day, tumbling and rolling like the pearls before the proverbial swine. My dog is that swine. My dog–my wonderful, wonderful dog–
“How’re you doing?” The. Most. Dreaded. Question. Ever. Somehow, “How’re you doing?” has replaced “Hello” or “Good morning,” as a greeting. I’m not talking about dear friends, but rather those who go one way while you’re headed another. Friends and