Ugh. I really wish summer was over and everyone was back at home and normalcy was the name of the game. My poor little brain just can't handle anything more right now.
I've been on Wellbutrin for almost one month now, and some days I feel like it's working, and other days not so much. But the whole thing could be a very complicated, compounded issue involving supermassive black holes of stress and pure evilness. The wedding was great, and jumping out of an airplane was absolutely amazing. Spontaneously jumping in the Club pool with my co-workers all clad in underwear was equally exciting. But they all seem to pale in comparison to the amount of hours of work and preparation that went into the do-it-yourself, budget wedding and all the meals that fed the extended family while they were here. Then you can add the shingles I developed three days before the ceremony for the second time (note: I also had chickenpox twice, go fig.), a job I only just started two weeks before the ceremony because I am obviously an idiot, and an assload of homework that I couldn't even remotely look at, let alone accomplish completion.
...
And when things were finally starting to settle down, my grandpa dies.
So what do I do? I don't even know! I am fairly certain I have an ulcer digging a hole straight through my stomach, because after the pain and the vomiting and the trip to the doctor who tells me my appendix is A-OK, I just assume that could be the only reason why my stomach is continuing to be the bane of my existence.
Well, I haven't bothered to read this over, but I am most assured that everything above this line is pure gibberish. And I am totally fine with it.
Years have passed...
2 years ago
