So Friday night I had a date with my Boylesquer. It went pretty damn well, apart from my having to run to the toilet to pee with alarming frequency. The following morning feeling rather squiffy I caught a very early bus home, and spent the day feeling gradually ever more squiffy. (“Squiffy” is my new favourite, not-real word. Say it with me, Squiffy…..aaaaaah)
Then Sunday morning I woke to find that my entire body has decided that it hates me. Not dislikes me, oh no. It actively hates me, in much the same way that I hate soap opera’s, I hate them all so much!
Yes, your intrepid blogger Amanda Harper has a kidney infection. The first one I’ve had in 7 months I might add, which is very much a new personal best for breaks between infections. Go me!
But it does leave me stuck in bed, sore, bored, tired, with an oversized non-vagina adjacent clit which feels rather like how my mouth felt, that time I ate two raw Habanero peppers on a drunken dare. It burns, oh Goddesses it burns!
So Amanda, what’s the point of this post then?
No point. I’m tired, sick, dreading the moment when my Partner in Crime brings home vile, disgusting Cranberry Juice, and I am of course seriously pissed off. So I decided to vent to my wonderful readers. And to reward you all for reading this, here’s a treat. Enjoy. *laughs the evil laugh of the burning pee sufferer*
(Normality, or at least a semblance of normality, will hopefully be returned by Thursday)
