Went to the doctor yesterday for what seems most likely a spasmodic *bladder.
*I typed this up on my phone and it auto-corrected the word ‘bladder’ to ‘bladderwort,’ but it’s like, if technology is so smart/great, it would know to auto-correct ‘uterus’ to carnivorous plant instead, amirite?
…
Anyway, something about cutting out caffeine, drinking more water, and the possibility of physical therapy for my bladder. I lol’d as I rolled up my sleeve to reveal a visible indicator of my reliance on caffeine – a tattoo of its molecular structure.
Sooo yeeaaa. The upping of the water is going to have to be a thing, but can people live without their lifeblood…? My sources point to no, as I sit here typing and getting my fill.
After my appt., my smalls and I went and watched a documentary about our national parks where I literally bawled like a baby because I just feel so deeply when it comes to that sh*t.
I mean, the combination of John Muir quotes and incredible landscapes and a piano cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah is pretty much a guarantee that you will need to pick me up off the floor.
OH MY GOSH, MAYBE I’M DEHYDRATED FROM ALL THE CRYING.
Ok, so quit coffee and/or quit crying.
(Lolol, I’m going to die.)
loud and out of key 