I have nothing of real value to say, other than that I may be having an early onset midlife crisis of some sort.
I'm tired of being a stupid caterpillar. I want to be a stupid butterfly now.
Also, I itch. Oh, the itching. Maybe that's my problem. Stupid medicine is half gone and I'm still rashy. And tired. And nauseous. Prednizone is the Devil.
OH THE ITCHY, SCRATCHY AGONY!!