Friday, July 20, 2012

Well. I'm Glad That SHE'S Gone!

There's been a noticeable lack of discouragement in my life for the past few months. Things have been going far too well around here, and I could sense that my Bratty Inner Child Julia has been moping around with very little to complain about, which was a very satisfying feeling.

But after my eye exam? Oh, brother.

After I heard the crummy news about my dumb stupid (but itty bitty) cataracts, BICJ literally rubbed her hands together with a renewed sense of purpose.

BICJ loves bad news. Yes, she does. She perked right up and sprang into action:

This calls for some serious self-indulgence. Hmm....think I'll send out a few Woe Is Me texts. Yeah. And then......oh, right.....better call Bev and do some significant whining. MmHmmm. I mean, she's got a real easy life, well, except for providing 24/7 care for her mom that has Alzheimer's, pffft. Having a bit of a blurry right eye -- just a bit, but golly gee -- trumps dementia any day.

Ok, what else.....ah. Yes. Dairy Queen Blizzard required. I'm thinking that this level of self-pity wallowing Vanilla ice cream, plus peanut butter syrup, plus Butterfinger candy bars, wait....make that two of the Butterfingers. Small size?  Please. We're talking my EYESIGHT here. Large. Definitely ordering a large. John? Honey? Drive through immediately. Get on it.

AND. Let's see. I think it's time to ratchet up the whole angst thing. Yes. I should pour energy into creating a huge imaginary catastrophic scenario that zaps all of my reserves. I can throw myself dramatically on the couch and alternate pouting with lapping up ice cream. Oh, and sighing heavily.

I'm such a good sigh heaver....

Oh, man. BICJ was in rare form yesterday. By nightfall, I was in bed, semi-comatose from the exertion of a fretting marathon plus a GI system working overtime to digest my Blizzard.

I woke up this morning feeling as though I had a hangover.

Um. Or what I imagine a hangover would feel like. Goodness.

Thank goodness BICJ is nowhere to be found today, and she'd better not show up again any time soon, either. Good grief. So glad that I can put things back into perspective today. I know that this is a manageable issue. I know that I won't lose my sight. I know that there are other treatment options for me. I know that there are far worse health, financial, and personal problems that others are currently facing.

And I know that I don't need any more hysterics. So there.

Ewww. Image and disgusting nutritional facts about a Butterfinger Blizzard found here.


Amy Junod said...

Love the itty bitty line at the end with a link to the nutritional facts. No...I did NOT click the link. Nor will I ever.
It's funny, I self medicated my oncoming crash with ice cream. Cures darn near any woe.
If I were you I would check on BICJ. Just cuz you don't see or hear her doesn't mean she's not scribbling on a wall somewhere.

annie said...

Nah, it wasn't a was your liver telling you it was darned difficult trying to digest all that rich yumminess.You're lucky to have BICJ to blame for these actions..I've got to find me an alter-ego I can blame for my misdeeds!

ShEiLa said...

I love 'blizzards' the Dairy Queen variety. I find it makes excellent therapy... esp. helps to aid in the side effects of prednisone therapy.