I’m not, perhaps, the most patient person. Also, I’m crazy, and that never helps anything.
I’m at that waiting period, where life continues along, but the little voice in the back of my head keeps wishing and fretting and hoping. Does that sudden rush of nausea on the train mean anything, or is it a simple but new-to-me low blood sugar crash due to a light dinner the night before? My large breast are ginormous today (I couldn’t do up my COAT) but is that a sign or is it because I made salty popcorn and am retaining water in the chestal area? Today’s fitness class, called I like to call Death by Cardio, slayed me. Was that just because it was unexpectedly brutal, even by the standards of the class, or because I haven’t been sleeping well, or??
In this case, time very much will solve my problems, but right now I’m counting days and rushing through any furniture project that involves lots of fumes in small spaces. And, you know, over analyzing every single freaking thing. Because that’s what I do.