The Fog

Because I hate myself and all my vile, filthy little ways I decided to punish myself by going on the pill and quitting smoking in the same week.
I’ve not been on the pill since high school so this was going to be an interesting little experiment. I started up on Sunday night and by Monday night I was a hormonal mess. It felt just like PMS except my rational brain kept pointing out that this was entirely pill related.
My list of people to devour skin first lengthened considerably.
Actually, the worst part was that the brain filters went into emergency power loss mode. So instead of preventing me from saying exactly what I think of you and your *demands *thoughts *taste in music *actions *breath *inability to spell, they let some things slip. Thankfully only a little came out and, looking back, it was really only 10% of what could have (or to be honest, should have) been said.
Today the fog lifted like magic, the little filters are back in place, I feel pleasant and charming (though I accept that I am not).
I’m giving up cigarettes for now, sigh. I miss them, I like smoking. I like that I get more breaks during the day and I get to be more social. People would argue that cancer is no fun, but I bet if you did it right, a cancer ward could be more social and fun than a nursing home. Just saying is all.
In other news, David’s birthday is this weekend. I’m putting together an elaborate cake for his party. I started making it last night. With all the shit on my mind I managed to burn the hell out of the cream for the wasabi ganache, but I made the most delectable ginger syrup ever. I’m totally using the leftovers for ginger martinis.
Now I’m bored as hell and I think I’ll go hit people’s websites over and over and over and over just to mess with their stats or something.