How am I doing? Not good, bitch.

I went to Siteman early this morning for round two of Faslodex. It was crazy crowded and people were being dicks. A lot of them have no concept of personal space even now. One lady, who was there to see an allergist, and not for the cancer center, threw a fit about having to be screened for entrance. I called her a stupid bitch, which she heard, and I felt happy about. I try really hard to be kind and empathetic, but maybe you should consider that you are walking into a lobby filled with immune compromised cancer patients who could die from your germs? I have no tolerance for any bullshit right now. My blood counts are low. I’m not fucking around, bitch. I will fight you.

There is a deep well of rage inside of me waiting to overflow. It’s good that I’m mostly in isolation, because my patience with people’s overwhelming stupidity and selfishness is gone.

So now I’m back at home, in bed, and with the exception of two small things, I plan to do nothing work related today. I’m feeling really shitty, and also agitated. I’m going to retreat into my bubble until it passes. This is where the quarantine comes in handy. No expectations and nobody to see except D. Oh and I have a video chat scheduled at two with James and Carrie. ❤️ I hope I start feeling better before then.

TGI-MOTHERFUCKING-F. I don’t have to talk to a client again until Monday. 🙌🏻

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One thought on “How am I doing? Not good, bitch.

  1. I’m finding it fascinating how few folks know what six feet looks like. I understand now that I could just have been telling folks that I am, in fact, hung like a goddamned horse.

    Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have had that second whiskey.

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