(no subject)

flu + detox off vicodin + excrutiating back pain (wow, i had no idea how bad it was off of the narcotics, heh) + no cuddlebuddy (3rd shift) + sleep deprovation= pouty kym


physical therapy is going really bad. the physical therapist is reccomending to my doctor that i get an epidural (hence getting off of the narcotics) and if that doesn't release the tention and help the disk go back to where it's supposed to then i have to get surgery. fucking yay. all of this from oodles of piles of dogshit in a driveway. i'm so fucking sick of this pain, it's really getting old.

anyway, work is going well. that assface appraiser is still dragging her feet with sending me the appraisal so i can get this mortgage signed, but the bank and the people involved are ready to go the second it comes in, which makes me happy because that means i'll get a commission check soon and then wyl and i can eat again. all in all though i actually do like my job. i enjoy the competition, i enjoy the really fast pace (except for appraiser whore) and how wacky these people are. it takes a certain kind of person to be a salesman, and god are the fucking nuts!

i'm supposed to go with my three puerto riccan clean cut moda lookin' friends from work to the chamber sometimes. they ALL wanna meet wyl, heh. they're not used to "goth kids" even though i'm older than all of them, heh.

i wish i could eat something, anything. my stomach hurts so bad. i have the insidiousarcana-itis again, heh.

i'm going to go sort dirty laundry.