(81) The Gray Fruitless Middle

I wasn’t sure how tonight’s post would pan out. There’s no internet here, which means for every post I write, I will have to type it up, and then drive it over to the building with free wifi and post in on Medium. It’s day one of this routine and I am already trying to find ways to weasel out of the additional two steps. The tummy/food poisoning thing from last night is an ongoing tango of fuckery in my belly, performed by two horny and incredibly uncoordinated hopefuls that truly believe the mantra ‘practice makes perfect’. It’s painful and inexplicable and all of a sudden and my brain keeps screaming ‘sudden onset gastroparesis!!! possibly Crohn’s!! half a dozen tiny oozing ulcers! name them after muses!’ We don’t know any doctors out here and so if it doesn’t magically go away in a few days, I could be up a shitless cramped creek with no respite and several layers of tender bloating.

I knew I’d be tired from the ten hour drive with three dogs and one illegal bathroom break (too hot to leave dogs in car + not allowed to bring dogs into any pit stop area anywhere = illegal potty break. I guess I’m on a crime streak. They’ll come into the bathroom to write me a ticket, put my name in the system and see my speeding fiasco from last week, and then I’ll be on the news screaming about how all I want is a decent shit. I’m at that age where I get what people are screaming about when they wind up on the news. This is where I am in my life, ok).

So, I left this post open ended. Because maybe the drive would be smooth and my tummy would be fine and I could get on here with something light and slightly sappy and a little cozy (getting to see hubs after a month away makes me forget all about my petulant excuse for a body and the little drooling goblin that rides it and optimistically refers to itself as ‘Health’). But, I’m slouching a little too low for a poetic anything tonight. I’m worried about tomorrow (work) and how that will go if I feel the same or worse, and I can’t get to a balanced writing place.

Hang in there, though, Medium fam! Because if it gets worse or better, then so will my writing! Ahahahaha fml. Facts only, but fml nonetheless.