It’s been a beautiful day today in Aberdeen. The sun is shining, it’s 23 degrees Celsius and there is a cool breeze. Perfect weather for pottering about outside. But I’ve had physiotherapy which means it’s pain day… and its pain relief patch change day which means feeling like absolute ass on top of physio aches. I also severely overdid it this weekend and am still repaying the mighty spoons god.
Its days like this that I begrudge my never ending dedication to faking this connective tissue disorder. I could have done so many productive/fun things, but I have to keep pretending I’m sick – for attention or something.
Things I would have liked to do today:
Wash clothes, clean the house (because the bathroom is beyond embarrassing), wash my hair, meet a friend for coffee/beer, go and meet my brother’s new kitten, go to the cinema with Mum, wander about playing Pokémon Go, eat anything yummier than bread/plain crisps without the fear of an imminent trip to vomit city.
What I have actually done today:
Physiotherapy, slept, went to chemist for drugs, felt like a spewy space cadet.
Because being stuck in the flat, vomiting into a filthy toilet bowl on a warm day is the best way of garnering attention from loved ones. It certainly leaves me feeling warm and fuzzy.