I’m kinda pissed. At my body. I’m fighting this…thing… with my spirit and my mind and my heart, but my body has struggled mightily these last 3 1/2 weeks.
Today *should* have been playtime.
Remember I was pissy because He wouldn’t commit to the date and then my life sucked up the time? Well, it so wouldn’t have mattered after all, because he won’t play when I’m sick. Which is fair. I don’t think it’s fun for either of us when I’m not responsive.
So, I’m on a second round of antibiotics as well as another new thing to try to knock this thing out. Seriously, this getting older stuff isn’t always easy…shaking these infections is definitely harder. (Sorry Jz, but this one is definitely true!)
That’s all the pissing and moaning I’m going to do about this. I’m frustrated, but it is what it is, and I just have to slow down a little (hahahahahaha) and try to rest (hahahahahahaha).
But there is a positive thing. I’ve kept Himself up to date with what’s going on here, and he sent me a text that was, for Him, a sweet little love note. He said he “wasn’t done with me yet” and to get better soon.
Yeah…it really is fun decoding Dom-speak. It’s something I’ve become adept at over these last 9 years. I’m never going to get effusive notes, not get flooded with caring words. It’s short, succinct, and usually sarcastic. I know the caring is there. He misses me. He wants to beat me.
And he will.
I finally feel like *I* need it as much as he does, so that’s improvement already. Right?
So please excuse the whineyness, the tinge of petulance, and the grrrr of frustration here. I’m going to be better soon. Better every day, right? RIGHT!