the return of the crimson horror
December 11, 2013

Stayed home yesterday; after a several-months absence, the red witch returned to wreak her havoc upon me. The kind of return where, even though you wear a maxi and a super-plus, you can get up from a short nap and proceed to bleed out all over the rug. Between the hormonal plummet, the ridiculous flow, and a few insanely fierce cramps, it laid me quite low. As much as I enjoy the respite of the months I skip, I could really live without these quarterly nightmares.

I got a ridiculous amount of sleep, though. After my usual night's sleep, I went back to bed after being up long enough to take care of B, decide I wasn't feeling well, and call in. Slept till after 9 am. Lay down for a nap at 1 pm, got up at 2, lay down again, and got up at 3:40. (That's the one that necessitated scrubbing the carpet with hydrogen peroxide.) Went to bed at my usual time and slept some more! I really do feel ridiculously better today, despite the Red River still overflowing its banks. I guess I really needed some rest. Not thrilled about going all the way through all my protection in the time it took to eat lunch, though. I had to try and get two ugly spots out of my faded blue jeans at work today. Should have brought the peroxide to work with me, I guess. (It was a jeans day because they had the holiday "brunch" today. Yippee. It used to be a breakfast, but they figured out that they could just have us come to the cafeteria at our regular lunch break and they wouldn't have to pay us for it.)

Spouse had another meeting with the VA rep at the job center, and the guy wants to take a crack at polishing the turd known as Spouse's r�sum�. He's welcome to as far as I'm concerned. Spouse isn't hearing back from anyone on these applications he's been submitting, so he's feeling kind of down about it. I am not exactly thrilled, either. And I still have to prod him about every little medical thing, which is pissing me off. I can't take charge of all the earning, most of the housework (he hasn't been doing very much lately besides cooking), MY medical issues, and his truckload of personal problems on top of it all. I just cannot. I should not have to be texting him all the time "did you go get your bloodwork done? Did you call for the results? Did you follow up about those questions you have about your leg?" He's fifty-fracking-five years old. He isn't working. He isn't doing much of anything. Why can't he just flipping deal, already?