Today I wore my "Writing Well is the Best Revenge" t-shirt that I got from fussy.org. We were packing the truck this morning and the Puddin' stared and my chest for a minute and then frowned. Puddin': People are going to think your shirt says pussy.org.
Me: At least it's a not-for-profit site.
I was headed home this evening from work and mentally making a list in my head of all the things we need to pack for our trip tomorrow to Crown Tournament. We're taking the 16x16 pavilion which means there will be a fun puzzle of putting 7 foot poles into the 6 foot bed of the Puddin's truck. I was even telling Kathy as we were leaving the office that Rich generally likes to wait to do all that stuff in the morning as we're scrambling to leave and I much prefer to make a ridiculously long list of all things we might possibly need and then edit that list for hours until I've made a large pile of stuff in the living room. I pulled into the driveway and was stunned to see all the 7 foot pavilion poles already in the truck! I came bursting into the house and all but knocked the Puddin' over with my enthusiasm for his planning ahead. And in return my list is very short and involves things like
and about two other things. So I think we've found a middle ground in our preparations for medieval field trips.
Speaking of medieval stuff ... While making my small pile of things to take tomorrow I ran across one of my early attempts at a hat to go with one of my outfits. It never got hemmed and somehow shrank significantly in the wash so it barely fits on my head. In all my futzing around with it, I found I bear a striking resemblance to ...
Theodoric Genie of York, medieval barber
You can also read the transcripts of the old Theodoric of York SNL skits, just for old times sake.
It's okay, Curtis, I promise this entry will be much shorter. There will be many more lengthy entries this month, though, so brace yourself, do some stretches, and be sure to manage your fluids during NaBloPoMo. I had sort of a hard day yesterday, and a portion of that was because of my diabetes. My blood sugar was 391 last night on the way home – ironic since yesterday was the first day of American Diabetes Month. I can't remember the last time my sugar was that high. And after taking a shitload of insulin (and crying a lot and generally feeling like hell), my sugar was still 361 over an hour later. It made for a long night. It's a “chicken or the egg” thing where I feel crappy and stressed out because my blood sugar is high, and if I'm stressed out and sick it makes my blood sugar high. Wheeee!
I could write pages and pages about all my diabetic pet peeves, but the crux of the matter is that it's not a lot of fun, but it's also not the end of the world. I've been doing this for over 21 years. Just reading what I typed boggles my mind. I've checked my blood sugar over 40,000 times (and have the gross fingertips to prove it). I can tell you the carbohydrates in most food. I am lucky that my low blood sugar wakes me up without fail so I can just give it my best guess and go to bed without worrying I won't wake up again. For the most part, while inconvenient and expensive, diabetes hasn't hindered my life that much. And yet for all my trying, I still have days like yesterday – days where it was already an amazingly shitty day and on top of all that my body decides to freak out. It's enough to make one very very tired.
Just when I start to feel really down, like the world is out to get me, I have a day like today, when it's not so bad. My sugar has been between 100 and 125 all day and I've felt relatively "normal." If I can just keep this up for another five years of so, I might could get implanted with a glucose-sensing RFID chip. The cows and I will have a much higher quality of life.