I want to try again to go to the doctor tomorrow

I was so exhausted today, all I could do was lie around in bed. I watched a movie online (Insidious 3). I’m off work again tomorrow. If I am not so dead exhausted, maybe I will be able to get up and go to the doctor and try again to get antibiotics. It wasn’t a good time because I was on my period, but that is fading away now. They have to take a sample from the vaginal fluids. That’s what I did at the clinic. I don’t know if that’s possible while I’m on my period.

I haven’t found the paperwork for my medicaid stuff yet, but I know it’s in one particular bag where I put all the different papers I could find, together. I could also try just paying the fee up front but I don’t know how much that’s gonna cost. One of the places has the up front fee, but I don’t know if there are additional fees. The only reason I could even think of doing that is because Dad gave me the money that he’s been giving me every month. I’m getting this extra income.

Getting money from my father every month, just to help with expenses, and then possibly getting an unknown amount, in an unknown way, from Mom in the future – I should not be able to complain about anything, except this fatigue making it so hard to get out of bed. I need to go through all the belongings and get rid of whatever is moldy – it’s putting mold into the air in my room. That is one theory of why I’m so tired.

Also, I bought all these men’s pants at the thrift store, four pairs of big fat men’s pants. I started to pick up a pair of women’s pants to try them on, then saw that they had shallow pockets and I had an INSTANT NUCLEAR EXPLOSION OF ABSOLUTE HATRED FOR WOMEN’S CLOTHING, so I put them back down on the shelf and went immediately over to the men’s section. I cannot shop when I am extremely angry. I hate shopping for clothes. I was supposed to start sewing, and swimming, as soon as I started living here, but that hasn’t happened. All I do is work and sleep.

So, I have four huge pairs of men’s pants. They will shrink when I wash them. The problem is, they are made for a man’s body, and now I am very embarrassed because they have a huge baggy crotch, so, seriously, I look like I am walking around with a boner. People are going to be even more confused than usual about whether I am a man or a woman. (Just because I don’t shave my whiskers, some people are confused.) So I have four pairs of old man boner pants that have to be shrunk, but I’m too tired to go wash them.

I don’t even like using the word ‘boner’ because that’s the word Art used at work – Art is a guy with asthma who uses some kind of breathing apparatus and it has steroids in it, and I think the steroids might be the reason why he’s so crazy. Art mentioned to another coworker that one of the customers had a boner, which was obviously visible and impossible not to notice. When I use that word, I hear Art’s voice in my head now.

I just watched ‘Insidious 3’ and it has ‘the man who can’t breathe’ as the evil demon. That just became Art.

I really, really, really need to try again to go to the doctor tomorrow. I hope, I hope, I hope I can do it somehow, somehow, somehow. It needs to get done. I’ve just been so tired and can’t get up early enough to do it before work. I have so few ‘spoons’ from my chronic fatigue.

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