In the time since my specialist appointment more and more things have occurred to me that really should have been discussed but weren’t. Which is annoying me.
And the meds have me feeling ravenously hungry but also kind of nauseated by food.
I am not the happiest sick loser.
On Saturday I roadtripped, with my dad, to Invercargill for my cousin Emma’s 21st. It was a pretty pleasant night considering how many of my relatives were there. Some of them are a lot of work, though mostly only the ones who are convinced it is the rest that are hard work which I assume means that I am one of the awful ones. The ones who seems concerned they are the problem are generally all fine.
I am impressed at the quality of kids Sharon raised, she did well. And now they are all adults. Though she seriously overcaters events (and blames Penelope for it, probably fairly).
I got back to Simon and Joe’s at 2am, to a very cranky cat who did not appreciate having been left unloved for 11 hours. So played the inside outside game and was a giant tosser for the next hour. Because cats suck. People should not have pets.
Sunday I dozed.
Yesterday was King’s Birthday, which still sounds like a fake holiday. It was also my cousin Eleanor’s birthday and she was in Dunedin with her kids so I had another day of family.
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