Today I ingested a very tiny spaceship (-ish...), destined to travel through my bowels and return with pictures - well, not excatly return since it is disposable, but the pictures it snaps are received by a bulky piece of equipment strapped around my waist with a velcro belt. At the moment I am just praying for the little control light to stop blinking so I can go throw myself at some boiled chicken and pureed carrots in the fridge, but in the long run I am of course praying that this tiny expedition yields some constructive results.
It is weird being ill this way, because althought I can list a number of things that are wrong with me, none of them are things I would like to say out loud while anyone is listening. I have been on and off ill for so long now that I feel compelled to hide it from everybody I know, not just because it is an unsavoury problem, but because I don't want to be the friend/sister/girlfriend who is always "ill". I am in a terrible mood, and being with people just reminds me a) how little energy I have, and b) that I am not by far able to be the relative or friend that I would like to be.
My culinary successes at the moment are so small I don't even feel like sharing because it's so pathetic. Like who knew that if you boil carrot slices for 3 hours and blend them in their own water the result is ridiculously sweet? (And a big yay for that...) Answer: nobody, because nobody in their right mind would ever boil a carrot for that long. It might be a while, but I am sho' lookin' forward to cooking up something a little more...normal.