So today I'm getting that painful thing I pray is a pimple checked out. It's the same size as it was on Saturday, and still hurts. There are no lymph nodes near that part of my back-- just muscle. I'm so sick of thinking about it, touching it, googling it, making J examine it, worrying about it. I am calling 30+ doctors until I find an appointment today. If I am unsuccessful, I'm going to the emergency room. I told my mom about it and she laughed.
On another note, in this world of constant change, I'd like to send a shout out to that which never seems to change: Beyonce's awesomeness. Seriously, every song she sings is a bona fide hit. I love her.
Evidently, I do not love her as much as I love Amber Smith from Celebrity Rehab (and Sober House). The other week I had a sex dream about her. I awoke feeling guilty and confused. I immediately confessed to J.
Me: "I feel guilty."
J: "Why?"
Me: "I had a sex dream about Amber Smith."
J: "Really?"
Me: "Yes, are you surprised?"
J: "A little."
Me: "Do you feel weird?"
J: "No, it's just a dream."
Me: "I guess. I still feel guilty, though."
J: ".....................................................so did you touch boobies?"
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