So apparently when you are face-on-concrete tired and nothing sounds good except for peanut butter sandwiches (and even then) and mochas, you know you are in trouble. And I will apologize right now for typos in this post because our laptop died two days ago leaving me to blog with my thumbs on my phone, and why it can recognize AYFKM but not Thanks instead of Hanks is beyond me. 

So, another week, another update. Still feeling on the verge of running for the bathroom all the time but must be faking it at least some of the time in public because a friend told me over the weekend that I looked well (& I may have laughed in her face which wasn’t the most kind response but it was my gut reaction because Face. Concrete. Etc.). All the effort it takes to do the running around is getting me though and I continue to be my less than shining self at home. PPM still here. And then Guilty Mommy shows up because I feel like I  am doing nothing to take care of myself and so of course I am a crazy (thanks, phone), cranky mess. I know there are small steps I can take and should take and here’s hoping I actually take them because it feels pretty unfair to my entire family for this to continue much longer. As in, must find boot straps. Now. 

And enter coffee. Yes, it’s back. My chai is disgusting to me and I can’t seem to drink a regular cup of tea for the life of me these days, but coffee with milk and chocolate? Yep. Bring it. But again, sitting here kicking myself doesn’t do a whole lot of good. I just need to take it one cup/day at a time, knowing that if I can just get through the next couple-few weeks, I will in fact feel human again and I won’t be drowning in laundry and dirty dishes (*snort* yes I will, but at least I might actually feel up to doing something about it), and won’t be so snappy and snippy. At least I sure hope that is the case. Oof.