I feel very uninspired. I might even be too lazy to put this in bullet form…and I don’t think I even have enough content in me for bullet points, anyway.

No…no…I think I can manage some RBoC, after all. Whew!

  • The haircut went okay. Doesn’t look much different, but I think it’s a little less poofy. That’s good. It’s at a weird length, where it’ll look good (I hope) when it grows out a bit more…but what to do with it for this whole, you know, “wedding” thing that’s going on next week? Excellent question. I have no idea.
  • The physical went okay, too, despite me being way more anxious about it than I needed to be. I got my thyroid medicine upped, so maybe that’ll help a bit with some weight loss. Oh, and with that whole brain fog/fatigue/lethargy crap, too. That weird little lump in my jaw is probably not lymphoma, my doctor says, but “just a cyst.” Is that supposed to be comforting? Apparently it is, because she dropped the subject after that.
  • I’m not breathing right at all tonight. I hate the whole anxiety/hyperventilating thing. It’s annoying.
  • Class was really, really annoying today, and I wish I could tell you why, but I’m a little too paranoid. Maybe I’ll tell you later. Right now I’ll just say that Some People really Piss Me Off.
  • (I am SO going to tell you about that later.)
  • TMI alert: I have PMS and I think I hate everything right now.

Bonus super annoying thing that re-turned me into a surly teenager this evening:

  • Apparently, my dad is convinced that–despite the enormous amount of planning, money, time, and energy GB and I have put into planning the wedding, not to mention the ten years we’ve been together–the wedding is actually kind of a sham, and just for show, and not really a “legal” wedding at all. My mom and my sister have, apparently, been telling him this isn’t true, but they’re starting to sound a little uncertain themselves. Dad’s issue seems to revolve around the fact that we’re not getting married at City Hall.* He’ll eventually see the marriage license, or certificate, or whatever, but this is making me a little crazy, for more reasons than I’m going to bore you with right now…but really, I ask you, what would even be the *point* of faking a wedding after 10 years?

OK. Enough! I should already be in bed, since nothing else is getting done today.

*It’s true that there was, at one point, a plan to get married at City Hall. But then we asked the Great and Wonderful Skycat to marry us, and she agreed, so we ditched the City Hall idea. But Dad–who, okay, is like 85 years old (though no one–not even my mom–knows his real age) and not a native English speaker (and the English seems to be disappearing as he gets older)–seems to think this means we’ve decided to NOT get married, and instead to just have a big party. It *is* a big party. AND A WEDDING. Damn.