Don't really know what to call this...

... But this is me, trying to get back to writing every day, even if it is just a sum of my thoughts about the wild happenings of my day to day life this summer. Oh, sarcasm. May you flow forthwith.

Thoughts From Saturdays will hopefully continue. I like to think that I'll be going to Saturday church a lot more in the future, but with that Still-Thought Thought and health issues, it may prove to be difficult. Still, I like going to overhear the discussion - it really gives definition to my spiritual life. It gives me time to stop and ponder parts of the Bible I may have glossed over in my furious attempt to read the entire Bible (3/4 of the way there, baby).

I honestly don't know where to begin. I had a doctor's appointment today. Blah, standard, I know. Not really newsworthy. But turns out I have IBS, a totally lame and kinda embarrassing affliction that I will get to enjoy for the rest of my natural life. It was hard to just hear my doctor (and when I say doctor, I mean specialist, because, Good Lord, what we had to go through to find the wonderful Dr. Lewis and the pill that is currently allowing me to function) say it so bluntly. As I right this, I am experiencing a delightful "flare-up" from God knows what, and as I'm sure you can tell, I'm really happy about it.

It is hard to feel anything but bitter about this and at the same time, I recognize my entire selfishness and piss-poor, bitchy attitude about it. I mean, I survived ADE, asthma, eczema, swine flu and bronchitis simultaneously, depression, Von Willebrand's disease, mono, allergies, tonsilitis. Just add IBS to the list and move on... I just can't help but feel a teeny, tiny bit like the life I knew before, however annoying and trivial it was, is gone. I no longer get to enjoy food. It is now my enemy. If I could survive without eating, I would. I no longer get to do things like swinging on swings, running, exercising vigorously, swimming, etc. because as soon as I do, my stomach begins to act like a too-full balloon that is being stepped on by a robust and bratty child trying to pop it.

But still. My life could be so much worse! Everyone could hate me. I could be a high school dropout. I could have been wildly disfigured in the car accident I caused. I could have gone to jail because of said car accident. I could have terribly mean and authoritarian parents who do not let me live in their house for 100 bucks a month. I could have no friends. I could have no bed to sleep on, no shower to use, no water to drink, no clothes to wear, and no food to eat, no matter how much havoc that food may cause inside my poor excuse for a digestive system. It could be WAY worse.

People could know about the Thought I have thought and now cannot Unthink. That would be pretty bad. At least for me. It might be enjoyable for some people. Some, dare I say, may find it hilarious. Probably as funny as I would find it if I could just. Stop. Thinking. It. Seriously, any day now, brain, you will grow up and learn to discard stuff like that immediately.

Clearly, I am in a bad mood. Clearly, I need sleep. Clearly, I should stop reading Fruits Basket and my terrible novel and stop watching The Lizzie Bennet diaries and old VlogBrothers videos I missed and stop writing whiny, self-indulgent drivel on my blog that no one reads and go to bed.