So I can finally use this thing again without feeling like I'll vomit all over it. One of the cons with the whole cancer thing, y'know. Of course, a major pro would be never having to make my bed. As I'm... well, almost always in it. At least when I'm feeling like crap. Remind me to take a visit to the chapel again when I'm feeling well enough to. ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( survey says... )

That Jefferson Airplane guy keeps waltzing by my room. Gods, what a weirdo.

I mean, he's getting all the steps wrong...

I must rectify this. That and it's too hot in here.

Hmm...

Cancer Treatment Scam?

I'm surprised anyone would fall for that. If there was a machine that could target cancerous cells without targetting non-cancerous, wouldn't it be all over the news?

And besides, if it were true, I'd be first in line and everyone knows it. Hmph.

Okay, so I'd let the kids go first. Still!

Dear Miss Mary,
Quite contrary,
How does our Wilsie grow?
With pinstripe suit
(He's such a hoot)
And shined shoes, don'tcha know.

( click for dapper doc... )

Note to self: When I'm awake enough to fully enjoy and appreciate both cookies and music, thank Doc Murphy profusely. And then maybe serenade her into being my permanent cookie dealer. Lord, that sounds so positively wrong. Black market munchies... cookie cartel... munchie mafia ( Read more... )

Chemo. Fucking. Sucks.

That is all.

Okay, maybe not all.

Mood swings suck too.

( more meaningless drivel. kinda. )

Can't sleep.

Can. Not. Sleep.

Maybe I shouldn't have eaten so much sugar this late at night, but...

I can't sleep. Dammit.

( Wow, nail on the HEAD. )