Don’t Get too Close! She’s Bitey

This week has been particularly difficult.

The nicotine patches have been greatly missed, to the point where I can’t leave the house for fear of strangling some random idiot who’s riding their fucking bike on the sidewalk.  That’s just an example; I can’t deal with people doing anything even remotely people-like.

Sigh, I also can’t stay at home because it’s boring me to tears, even with all the pot I’ve been smoking.

I’ve taken to hand-sewing things just to have something to do.  I sewed some circles onto some patches that are becoming a patchwork skirt.  Ugly hippie crap, but it’s something that I can do with my hands that doesn’t include eating.

Which I’ve also been doing excessively.  I went away to visit my family last week, and when I came back, I could no longer fit into any of my pants.  I’ve spent the past five days either muffin-topping or wearing dresses, which are far more merciful to my current predicament.

And today I woke up to a bleeding nose.

And a bleeding uterus, which came complete with some badass cramps who refuse to give in to painkillers, even though I’ve ingested enough to kill a small village of elephants.  Or at least enough to make writing extremely difficult and time consuming.

I hate this week!

Fucking nicotine addiction and subsequent withdrawal.

Fucking fertility and ensuing physical pain.

Do I ever need a hug and a punching bag.  Preferably from someone who knows how to shut up and take a hit.