B is for Cookie

Sombody needs to get me an fucking epidural right now becuase I am birthing my uterine lining. I don't know if you know this, but turns out it's attached to my insides with tiny jagged nails that are being ripped out as we speak.

Or maybe there's a tiny artist inside my womb, carving a bloody sculpture with a dull hatchet. Keep an eye out for my tampon on display at the Moma.

I may have taken too main painkillers before my exam this morning beucase I arried at school with my skirt visibly, obviously, totally noticibly on sideways.

In unrelated news, I have angular chelitis (shout out to the good folks at web md). It's basically cracks in the corner of your mouth caused by dry lips or ill-fitting dentures, although wikipedia says it can also be a sign of an hiv infection. THANKS WIKIPEDIA! You know sometimes it's almost like the internet isn't a relaible medical resource. In any case I should probably just go to the pharmacist and get an ointment or salve but pharmacists are basically mini-doctors and you know how I hate those guys. Plus wikipedia didn't say it was a sign of full blown aids so I think I'll just wait it out.


And now, back to my regularly scheduled chocolate and crying.