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The coffee shop I always go to has this continual problem where they'll have something on the menu but I'll inevitably ask for it on a day when no one knows what I'm talking about. So today I'm drinking an experimental cinnamon tea latte which is not terrible, but smells a bit too much like a bucket of red hots. I like the opposite side of the cinnamon spectrum. Woe is me.
Today I'm meeting my new doctor, and by doctor, I mean one of her residents and I'm not really looking forward to that because it's two hours I'm going to have to make up from work on top of the eight hours I already have to make up in advance and why don't I just live at the store. Anyway. I'm sure they'll ask penetrating questions and may not even give me back my prescription for Alprazolam which the woman I talked to before was really rude about. I just want to have it in case of emergencies - I've been trusted to know how to use it since I was 19, suddenly at 25 I'm not? Bah.
Last night, though,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monkeybobert came to my rescue and helped me clean my room and now I won't trip on things in the dark and plummet to unknown cluttery doom. It looks very tidy and I'm glad, and maybe it'll last more than two days. She and cherry Pepsi also seemed to cure my stomach unfriendliness! It was a magical evening.
I have this thing where over the course of the day I think of all kinds of things I want to write about and then I'm like "NO SPAM FLISTS, bad me, bad!" and so I never say anything but uggh. Here is one of those things, however: I've been reading a wonderfully interesting book called "Disease and History" and it's obviously about what the title says it's about, but it's particularly fascinating to have spelled out just how much of what we know and how we know and how we are and what we have done has been affected by the spread of all manners of disease.
But housemate asked me a question about malaria last night that I couldn't answer and that made me feel lame. There is still so much to learn.
Today I'm meeting my new doctor, and by doctor, I mean one of her residents and I'm not really looking forward to that because it's two hours I'm going to have to make up from work on top of the eight hours I already have to make up in advance and why don't I just live at the store. Anyway. I'm sure they'll ask penetrating questions and may not even give me back my prescription for Alprazolam which the woman I talked to before was really rude about. I just want to have it in case of emergencies - I've been trusted to know how to use it since I was 19, suddenly at 25 I'm not? Bah.
Last night, though,
monkeybobert came to my rescue and helped me clean my room and now I won't trip on things in the dark and plummet to unknown cluttery doom. It looks very tidy and I'm glad, and maybe it'll last more than two days. She and cherry Pepsi also seemed to cure my stomach unfriendliness! It was a magical evening.I have this thing where over the course of the day I think of all kinds of things I want to write about and then I'm like "NO SPAM FLISTS, bad me, bad!" and so I never say anything but uggh. Here is one of those things, however: I've been reading a wonderfully interesting book called "Disease and History" and it's obviously about what the title says it's about, but it's particularly fascinating to have spelled out just how much of what we know and how we know and how we are and what we have done has been affected by the spread of all manners of disease.
But housemate asked me a question about malaria last night that I couldn't answer and that made me feel lame. There is still so much to learn.
