Randomness

So, sitting here working and if I had to swear to it, I would say my blood sugar was going low. I came to this conclusion using logic. I felt a little woobly and sweaty and added that to taking a big bolus of breakfast insulin because I was planning to eat a big plate of leftover Chinese food (ALL THE CARBS) but only ate about a third. Seems logical, right?

Oh, that’s right!? Diabetes is not a logical fucker. It’s an asshole.

Nope. Blood sugar was 171 mg/dL. So, I took another 2 units to knock it down a bit more.

But all I could say was, jeeeeebus! I really have NO FRIGGIN CLUE what’s going on with my blood glucose. None.

I’m a SENSITIVE person. I can usually tell things about my body pretty darn well. I guess that’s why not being able to tell where the fuck my blood sugar is makes me crazy (-ier).

Do y’all know (of course you don’t, why would you?) I spent about 4 months of my life horrifically depressed because I was trying to live with my blood sugar too low? Did I know that’s what caused it? Nope. That sucked.

So, I’m now off of what I think of as the “easy” meds, and I’m back on the insulin fun. It actually works much better for me, except for this pesky not knowing if I’m high, low, or okay.

That’s kind of a bitch.

I’ve begun training the wee Janelet puppy to eventually become a service dog. I had to order new freezer tubes and cotton, so right now we are working on basic manners and obedience. Wish me luck! ❤️

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I hurt my butt.

I did. I hurt my ass. Specifically, I hurt my left assular area and, sadly depressingly to my dismay, I did NOT do it in any sort of fun kinky way.
I slipped and fell pretty hard a couple of weeks ago which apparently enraged a teeny tiny (I know!? A teeny tiny anything in my butt?! I was also excited.) muscle known as the pyriformis. Lil’ Pyri (as I call it) became lonely in his (don’t know why, but Lil’ Pyri feels like a dude) outrage of me slipping in water and landing on him, that he roped my sciatic nerve in to rock out at an ongoing pain party. I attempted to follow the “ignore it and it will go away” plan for the first week which was incredibly successful at being unsuccessful. I’m now actively trying to make it better and it seems to be helping.

Or it was helping until tonight when I was lying here feeling a knot of sharp pain and thinking about how much worse it had gotten.
I complained. I whined. I bitched. Nothing about me bitching, whining, or complaining was helping to relieve the stabbing agony. At the pinnacle of deep pointy pain, I rolled over hoping to find relief and to my wonder, the pain moved.
My first super smart thought was, “huh, that’s odd”. Then I dug around where the pain had moved to and I found this:

No, this is not a kinky sex toy; this is the magnetic vent clip that I leave attached to my phone as a stand. I left the diet coke can in the frame for size reference.

That’s right people, was lying on the point of a phone stand.

Sometimes, my aptitude for ineptitude surprises and impresses even me.

Love,

H.

A dream…

I’m not really a dreamer.

I never have been. I remember my mother often talking about what she would do if she won the lottery and it was always a difficult thing for me to try to do. I have always let the universe guide (drag?) me wherever it did and I just make the best of it.

I think I just had my first ever day dream and it went something like, “holy crap that sounds amazing! I think I would really like this to happen! Yeeeeeessss!”

Now, please note – I am aware that it would be almost impossible for this to become reality. (Look at me, already killing off my very first “someday!”) But how amazing would it be to have a dog-training facility and dog park like this one?

https://dogsforlifevb.org/our-story/

Besides the training facilty, I would want to put in a self dog wash station, charge $15 or whatever to get the use of shampoo, conditioner, towels, and ergonomic wash the dog sink/tub (and rubber apron! LOL).

The dog park would be critical, I would want a water feature for the dogs to play in, a sand pit for them to dig in, LOTS of shade and seating. We could have a picnic-type area and fire pit area which could be rented out for dog-friendly private parties. Also, a doggie playground with some *very* basic agility equipment.

Inside the training facility there should be a dog training book lending library and reading nook – because that sounds amazing to me.

A comfortable barn-like dog boarding facility and an area to raise puppies to train for balance-assist and blood sugar alert service dog training for those in need, especially veterans and the elderly.

There it is, my dream. It would be a metric crap ton of work. But hey, maybe someday, right?

Happily married, but I’m still me. LOL

So, feelin’ kinda flirty with my husband and figured I would send a naughty text his way. It’s my own fault, I was just sort of texting stream of consciousness and it’s easy to forget that my consciousness is that of an awkward nerd.

My sexy text:

“Kinda wanna climb on top of you and let pieces parts end up places.”

Now, who can resist that kind of dirty talk?!

I’m still laughing.

Well, I’m annoyingly happy…

Ladies and gentlemen, I’m happy. I mean, I get annoyed, irritated, bitchy, overwhelmed, underwhelmed, and all the other roller coaster emo bullshit humanity goes through – but holy shit, I’m *happy*. My life is spectacularly mundane, but this morning while I was brewing my morning tea, I opened the dishwasher and found it had already been emptied and had an incredible rush of contentment and love.

Now, being a superstitious (paranoid?) sort, I’m usually afraid to admit to being happy or joyful as I expect the universe to immediately bitch-slap any happiness or joy right the fuck out of me (Important: if I die horribly today and/or a tsunami hits and/or I’m struck by lightning and/or something else equally horrific occurs- please let people know my superstition/paranoia was ACCURATE.), but I’ve decided to allow myself to feel the happy.

I’m just so annoyingly and happily in love with that guy I married. (*looks up to check ceiling isn’t collapsing!*)

Love y’all,

H.

I got cocky….

Ok. Here’s this morning’s hilariousness. Was on the toilet LITERALLY LOOKING UP “proud of myself” memes because I was adulting and feeling proud of myself for doing all the random (forgive the pun) crap that needed doing.
Wiped, flushed, toilet water began pouring from base of toilet.
Moral of story – don’t be proud while taking a shit. Universe will make you pay. 🤣🤣🤣

….so, how much gold do you think it’s going to take to fix the toilet? *laughing*