Urgh

[smokingboot]

Well, I ranted about doctors and dentists, so as penance for all the great medics I might have offended, I get the mother of all stupid tactless bastards to check me out. He irritated and scared me so much, I was convinced that he was the only person in the Northern hemisphere closer to death than me.

It's all so much crap, I'm not going to make it feel real by writing it here, but there is one thing I have to snarl about: I'm off to the hospital, where, apparently, 'They'll decide what to do about it.' Right. They'll decide. And there I was thinking this was my body, when in fact, I must have rented it off the hospital way back in the misty marshes of umbilical fluid. That explains the bar code on my arse. Cretins.

I refuse to think about this any more. My love and I shared white wine and chocolate curly-wurlies (I haven't had those in years!) and watched Black Hawk Down. It was harrowing, horrible and beautifully shot, even at its most gruesome. I have the sniffles (probably from waiting in that idiot's freezing surgery, but OK, there is an argument for it having been caused by wandering round saturday night Nottingham with my skirt flapping round my hips)No, I can't make any sense tonight. Sorry dear LJ, I am orf to bed.