This combination may sound weird, but I wanted to give it a shot. I caramelized the onions slowly, adding some maple syrup in the last ten minutes. The cheese is one that I can just pick up and eat chunks of, and I am not a just-pick-up-chunks-of-cheese-and-eat-them person. It’s sweet and tart and dry and creamy, which I know are oxymorons, but I’m an oxymoron.
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I have also reconnected with my creativity, as evidenced by this website and my Youtube channel. When I was approved to receive Skyrizi to treat my psoriasis, I decided to make an extra blog page dedicated to the treatment progress. Let’s hope there is progress!
There are five months before I turn 40, and I don’t have anything major planned for the big day yet. I’ll figure out something fun to celebrate. It will be easier to think about that once my face doesn’t look like I’m turning 60. This flare up has drastically aged the skin around my eyes, and it’s bringing my spirits so far down that you’d have to mine for them. Celebrating anything is so far out of reach right now.
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Personally, I have been denied medical services by health insurance in the past because they did not believe I had gall bladder issues at 19 years old. There was just no way I needed to have it removed, they said. I continued to have digestive issues, but luckily, I have since been safe from gall bladder attacks. I do also know what it's like to have intense back pain, and I have had a similar surgery to this young kid.
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Let’s be real, I eat at work where I am not supposed to, and throw out profanity to the public if I feel like the person I’m talking to won’t go running to tattle on me. So why is it, that I have such a hard time breaking out of this documentation style that has absolutely no bearing on what I write at 39 years old, post-uni, and on my own goddamn website?!
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Maybe it’s naive to think that way. Maybe it’s one way I’m actually optimistic. If it’s the latter, this nihilist will accept that.
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For the past four months, it has been physically demanding to the point that I thoroughly enjoy my work duties. I go home feeling accomplished and the right amount of tired. I have felt the happiest that I ever remember as an adult. I have purpose. The work I do helps people in the simplest of ways—feeding themselves and their families with minimal effort on their part.
I have cried twice at my new job.
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Every 25 days, I threaten to take a sharp knife to my abdomen in order to remove my uterus. It’s never done me any good, and it never will. What is the point in keeping it? Last night I had the thought, why stop there?
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It snowed last night in Michigan. It’s June 17th, almost summer. We got about two inches.
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