just the facts, ma'am
(or, "fucking rain! fucking teeth! fucking cervix!")

alright no more of this melodramatic shit. it's enough having to dream about it every night. thanks, subconscious, could you make it any more obvious? oh, dont cry, i know you're just trying to help, but it just ain't gonna happen like that.

8:46 am, kicking off a stellar week of personal health. cold, wet, and painful.

but at least we have a working oven. i feel like a total Martha being excited about it, but there isn't much else to be excited about at the moment.