2:11 PM — Aftermath Well, it didn't go too horribly. I was able to forget for maybe an hour at a time that I had this painful sore on my chest, and for longer that I didn't have a bra on. I wore a maroon sweater with matching scarf, so that the scarf tails covered my chest. I was also (conveniently) perpetually cold yesterday, so I kept my jacket on much of the time. One of T$'s friends asked me why I had my jacket on in the resturaunt, and I was able to answer honestly that I was cold ("It's a tit bit nipply out!"), though seeing as it was Jason T, I was tempted to reply "because I didn't want people to know that I'm not wearing a bra." It's the sorta bizzare self-defeating thing he'd say for a laugh.

The pain wasn't too bad since I kept popping a couple advils every few hours. Except for that point when a few of us were joking around on the train and T$ elbowed me in my chest. He meant it like mock-fighting which we do occasionally and some of those times irritates me anyway, and this would've been one of those times it irritated me. I cried out when he hit me, and turned away to blink off tears from the combined irritation at mock-fighting, pain like someone stapled my chest, emotional pain at his inadvertant betrayal (could you really expect anyone other than me to remember at any given moment where all my sores are?), and also catching my breath b/c his elbow included not only the cyst but my solar plexus. Man that sucked.

I popped another two advils before bed since it was still hurting, and then realized I'd already taken a couple just two hours before. Oops. I figured that's probably not so much that I should be having my stomach pumped, plus it was STILL hurting, I needed more not less painkillers, so I let T$ sleep and soon slept too. I slept in really late this morning though, perhaps b/c of the overdose, though it could also be that I'm catching whatever cold my students all have.

T$'s going to be in Ireland for just over a week. I'm going to miss him; I'm jealous; and I'm hurt at his flat out statement that I couldn't handle the rigors of hiking. He (like many guys) is better at being honest than tactful. And then he's not all that encouraging when I want to get him to do exercise-like things with me to get me in better shape. "It'd be a hassle to bring my bike to Worcester." (maybe true, but worth it) "But there's no where to hike near Worcester." (not true) "You don't need to carry that much water for a short game of frisbee." (I do know how much I need, and even if I were wrong better to over estimate than under) I may look healthy (I'm a skinny 125 lbs maximum), but I don't live a healthy lifestyle and if you look at my parents it's clear that I won't stay this way forever. I know that now (or sooner) is the time to turn around and start doing things right, but I have a hard time motivating myself to exercise, or eat (right or not), so I look to the man who loves me for encouragement. "I'm worn out from work this week, we'll hike another time." "Walking to the grocery store isn't nice because it's along a busy road."

Bleh. I'm going to go sleep or play video games or shower or something. I know T$'s going to read this sometime. Oh well, too bad. I needed to get various crap off my chest. No horrible HS reference intended there.  ¶ permalink | 0 musings