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real life

A 3905-post collection

Lo Batt Shenanigans

I was at Lo Batt, yesterday. A fraction of my general energy. And most of that is due to mucous.

Funny how having goop in your tubes causes you to not breathe properly.

But despite the Lo Batt status, I still managed to do all the firkin washing up and get a dinner on. I didn't have the energies to go shopping for supplies.

Knowing this, I messaged my lifemate. The love of my lifetime. Co-parental to our children. My Best-Beloved. To secure said supplies for me. And maybe a real easy dinner.

Time passes. I trust. I wait.

It's wall time. I give Chaos the task of prepping dinner and hope for the best. We have to improvise something (it turned out real good, actually) and call it a night.

The kids go to sleep.

I go to sleep.

Radio firkin silence from Beloved. Which is really really annoying.

Today, though, having horked up roughly a quarter cup of chunks [not an actual measurement, dear readers. I'm not adulterating my measuring cups for this shit] in the wee small hours, I actually have more access to oxygen, today.

Therefore, after the Brat Run, I shall be taking an excursion to the local shops for essential supplies, an easy dinner, and maybe something to help me with this gorram bug.

I may chew out Beloved later. It looks like they had a long and frustrating night.

Busy and cold

I am in the process of kicking off this lurgi. For those interested in my chunks, they are slowly, gradually, getting smaller, paler, and less frequent. Yay, I guess.

Last night's sleep was spotty at best, and frequently interrupted by chunks. The good news out of that was I managed to get a piece for my Wordpress.

I got the whole cleaning day thing, and the usual writing to do. And figuring out something in the order of dinner.

I'm thinking -

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Hork...

I slept through most of yesterday and I feel a lot better about my place in this torture session called life.

I'm still coughing up chunks, but it's looking... good. For limited definitions of 'good'. In terms of chunk horking, there's less chunks, smaller chunks, and the colours of said chunks are giving me hope.

GROSSNESS WARNING: Colour chart for phlegm

  • Clear/transparent/white - nothing is living in your bodily fluids, you're good. For limited definitions of 'good' because you're still
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Phlegmatic

The lurgi's got me good. This morning's highlights included me exuding mucous.

Yup.

Coughing up lumps.

Such fun.

I have a small hope that hydration and rest will shake this off, but... If it's still clinging around, I'm going to have to get myself on antibiotics.

Not my funnest eventuality.

And when I'm done with today's story, I shall likely attempt to sleep this thing off.

I.

Hate.

Lurgi.

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M'lurgi

This bug... clings.

I just can't shake it like I'm used to doing. And Sneezin' and Wheezin' season is not helping.

I have three sticks of cinnamon. I can plausibly make cinnamon/ginger/citrus tea. Lord knows the Shamdy didn't help as much as it should have. But getting a good ginger garlic chicken soup going is going to have to wait until I have more money.

Bleh.

I just want to sleep. But I owe y'all a fresh story and a

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::Static Noise::

Chaos' birthday, so of course I had carbs.

Sweet, delicious, crunchy carbs.

And of course I have the "hangover" today. Increased Lurgi symptoms. Supremely fuzzy head.

General "fuckit I'm spacing out" attitude seems to be mandatory too.

If I make it through today with anything in relation to work done, I am counting it as a miracle.

Caramel mud cake was totes worth it though.

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Happy Birthday, Miss Chaos

My darling little girl is now a Difficult Teen(tm) at officially thirteen today.

I haven't got her anything for a present just yet. But she does have free license to pig out on whatever she wants, today. Which is going to include dinner at Hoggies, cupcakes at school, and a caramel mud cake in the evening.

On the plus side, I do have all day to wander around and figure out what might gain miss Chaos' interest.

Or I could give

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Lurgi, Wheezing, and Other Noise

Lurgi: The seasonal sniffles of the It's-Going-Around have definitely hit, if my crunchy eyes are any indicator. Still living on Shamdy and hoping for the best and peeing like a champion.

Wheezing: The curse of the season has bit me on the arse and I actually horked up a small bronchial cast this morning. Gasp. The bad news is, I swear I had some atrovent nebules somewhere and I can no longer remember where the hell I left the fuckers. They have

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Post-indulgence Regret

Broke keto for Pripa's day. And there was cheesecake. And fudge. And ice cream...

So I woke in the morrow with Sausage Fingers. Because retaining water is one of the things my body does when it gets carbs. Other signs of carb overdose include lack of focus, memory problems, and general fluffiness of head.

So this is going to be brief.

So that I can get on with the whatnot of my shit.

I have discovered that a dearth of potassium can

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Merry Pripa's Day

To all those Primary Parentals who stay up late, wake up early, sit through sickness, and fret about the health of your little darlings... Grats.

You made it another year without throttling the little shits. Through angst, anguish, frustration, and fear. You made it. And some of them might actually be grateful for the effort.

I'm awake at Awful in the morning because of the so unfabulous combo of Sneezin' and Wheezin' Season plus low pressure system plus what feels like an

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Sneezin', Wheezin' and CYCLONE Season

If there's anything worse than Sneezin' and Wheezin' Season, it's that plus fucking Low Pressure Systems making my face firkin hurt.

Today's episode of Fuck My Life began at half-past one in the morning and only abated because I finally got to the Ibuprofen plus Acetaminophen at 8ish. For Australians: Neurofen and Panadol. For the Americans: Nurofen and Tylenol.

I don't know any other nation's brands. Fill me in. I love to learn things.

So yeah. Spotty sleep. Painful face. An air

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Aah, Friday

A busier Friday than normal, but still... a relative day of rest for this nerd.

But it's also a cleaning day, so that means I'm working a lot more than normal. Usually, on a Friday, it's all relaxed despite having a thousand words to generate and a son to fetch from Banyo.

Today? I'm not so sure.

I have to make a phone call to talk to some people about getting Mayhem's phone fixed so that it's not a brick any more.

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BBC SOP - FEFO

For those amongst the acronym challenged - BBC stands for the British Broadcasting Company. The public television since whenever.

SOP is Standard Operating Procedure. For instance, the standard operating procedure for politics is lie, cheat, and rack off with a golden parachute.

FEFO is new. It's something Beloved and I coined after absorbing a couple of episodes of a new thing from the BBC. It stands for this:

Four Episodes, Fuck Off

We've seen a lot of this with high-quality BBC products.

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Well, Fuck

Okay. Here's the situation.

  • Cocoa contains carbs and I need to figure out the content of one button to keep my hot chocolates ketogenic
  • Mayhem has a conference with his guidance counsellor and I discuss his grades
  • I need new windshield wipers
  • Time is growing ever closer to the release of a better Apple Lappy for my first actual Earned Laptop
  • All my funds are tied up in other shit
  • Including Mayhem's traineeship [$2K]
  • And paying for my car rego [$600+]
  • My
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My Face Hurts

There is a low pressure system somewhere. I can feel it in my left eye orbit. Starting at the bridge of the nose and graduating into the lower half of my eye socket. At least, thanks to some Panadol, the pain has ebbed from reaching my left temple and threatening to graduate into my teeth.

I paid $3K to have my nose fixed and therefore suffer this for potentially the rest of my life. Huzzah? The bonus, that I snore less harshly

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