1. My body is defective.
Like seriously defective. Apparently it now needs a tune-up every two years just so it can fucking function. My accupuncture appointment tonight turned into a roundtable discussion between myself, my accupuncturist, and my gynocologist about whether I was going to have to go under the knife again or if I just have a bad hormonal imbalance. Oh yes. It was super relaxing. Either way I have to go for another ultrasound (and not the fun kind from Juno), do another spit test, and go back for another appointment. Did I mention that they probably won't come to some kind of concensus for at least another two weeks and I'm going to be in pain that entire time? It's super great to be me right now.
2. I don't care about cake or pie.
I told myself I was never going to chase a (hypothetical) dessert around ever again... and I broke that promise. It was a mistake. Now I have real problems and I couldn't care less about a couple of pastries that just see me as a quick piece of ass. If you want me, really want me, delicious sweet lickable sugary confections, you know where to find me.
3. I have the most amazing friends on the planet.
People say that all the time, but for me, it's really true. I'm an asshole and I have someone to go out to lunch with every week who adores me, a friend who's willing to get up at like 6am to see me tomorrow, and a bunch of people I know I can count on for hugs and support...
And I know I'm going to need it. Especially now.
I know what my ideal outcome for this situation would be..
[WARNING! Uber-sentimental ramblings of a sick person to follow. Not for those with weak stomachs.]
My seemingly unattainable cake and I waltzing through the streets of New York City. Him, actually interested in more than just sleeping with me and me not doubled over in pain, feeling lightheaded or nauseous, or otherwise ill. He will want to hold my hand, I won't bite his head off when he tries. He'll realize I'm what he always needed and let me in and I won't run like a frightened school girl when he does. We'll have fun, more fun than I've ever had with a guy. I'll be myself, really myself, and he'll like it. And when it's all over, and he wakes up and realizes he's never going to find anyone better than me, he'll call. And he won't want to hang up.
[End of sentimental nonsense.]
But that's not going to happen.
The reality is I have feelings for a guy who is never going to want any of that, and I don't even have the capacity to care about that fact. All I can do is brave these tests and try to sleep at night with the thought of another surgery-recovery period looming just beyond the edges of my dreams.
It's time to put my big girl pants on again.