I feel terrible.
My ovaries actually hurt. And after pouncing on my husband with too much vigor, I am now powering through a UTI. So stim meds, plus antibiotics, plus so many supplements they actually make me kind of nauseated, equals one miserable bowl of guacamole.
Also the people upstairs are redoing their apartment, which this morning involved lots of hammering and a sawsall that sounded like they were doing dental work on a whale. So I'm at the library, which I love, but I just spotted another writer I know, and I'm trying to figure out how to avoid her because though she is wonderful, I simply do not have the mental and emotional energy to be all "Oh heeeeey! Hi! How ARE you? What are you working on? Provisional plans! Blah blah blah" which normally I am happy to do, as I legitimately like this person, but I mean, come on.
My ovaries hurt.
That is all.
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