In Which I Do Not Even Apologize for Being this Whiny

The past week, in spite of the nothing that I have had to do in terms of scholarly duties, has been cram-packed with friends and activities and such. Two friends’ birthdays are this week and another friend just got a great job offer at a very fancy school, so there has been a lot of celebrating going on. Between that and our Pub Trivia Obligations (every Tuesday evening we rule the town with several PhDs, dozens of years of watching television, and seven very drunken fists), it has been a party almost every night.

It turns out that nightly partying is not entirely good for the body. Used to be, I could party it up eight nights a week with no bad physical repercussions, but I guess now that I am all old and shit, that can’t happen any more. Oh, I would love to detail all of my many woeful ailments, but I will skip out on a few of them. If I were one of those tell-all blog ladies, I would have no qualms about describing things like my Special Ladies’ Time and my Digestive Activities, but I seem to have a mostly male readership and I don’t want to scandalize any of you.

I will tell you that I woke myself up in the middle of a nap the other day when I bit my own tongue very, very hard – hard enough to draw blood – and that now it is still sore and mildly swollen and I keep inadvertently chewing it when I try to talk, because it insists on being in the way of my teeth. Add that to a handful of other ailments, some of them which necessitate the drinking of much cranberry juice (which itself leads to heartburn, fucking heartburn!), and I am a miserable girl.

The other morning, The Dog and I had to have a very self-indulgent sulk fest: he was very upset and traumatized at having had to go do his business in the pouring early morning rainstorm, and when he came back in he whined disconsolately, ran around the house, and finally got up on my bed and wound the duvet around into a pile of whipped-cream-looking feathers, and nestled himself inside it. I thought it looked like a pretty wise idea, so I joined right in. It was very cozy and nice. Sometimes I just need to hide away from the world and take a day (or two or three) completely off to regain my sanity, you know?

While I would like to continue the lazy bed-lying, the whiny and disconsolate moaning, and the generally self-indulgent behavior, I actually have to get up early tomorrow as I am supposed to go yard-sale-shopping and brunch-eating with my friend S. for her birthday. Woe is me; I must arise at 8:00 in the morning. The very thought of this is miserable. All I can say is that there had better be some absolutely bitchin’ yard-sale finds to make up for the pain and injustice of it all.

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6 thoughts on “In Which I Do Not Even Apologize for Being this Whiny

  1. TimT May 17, 2008 / 5:30 pm

    True, we guys are delicate little petals and any mention of bodily functions is enough to set our sickly constitutions aquiver. I feel a fit of the vapours coming on now. Hold me, Jeeves…

  2. Timothy May 18, 2008 / 12:05 am

    Eight is early? Dude that is sleeping in!

  3. Silliyak May 18, 2008 / 7:59 am

    You have to admit that cranberry juice is UTIlitarian!

  4. Alexis May 18, 2008 / 11:21 pm

    Egad, sorry to hear about the cranberry-juice-necessitation. Few things more hideous than hideousness of the urinary tract. A housemate of yore described her urinary tract infection as like “pissing splinters of glass”, which just about does the experience justice.

  5. John May 19, 2008 / 12:46 pm

    Diagnosis: UTI is it? Take it from your male readership – Dude, keep it in your pants! Errr…hold on a sec…I think I’ve been scandalized!

  6. John May 19, 2008 / 12:46 pm

    Diagnosis: UTI is it? Take it from your male readership – Dude, keep it in your pants! Errr…hold on a sec…I think I’ve been scandalized!

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