or something. I'm dizzy constantly. Standing and walking upstairs have become a nightmare. Why am I still sick? It's been days, I should be better by now instead of breaking into a sweat whenever I have to get up from the couch.

Went w/mother and Amy to the vet's office where the most recently neutered (Sally, Bip, Ruby and Rudy) got their stitches taken out. We all crowded into the examining room and my mother said (as she put Ruby on the table)
Mother: (nervously) She has a... little... discharge.
Vet: From where?
Mother: Her... back end?
Vet: (impatiently) there's alot of places for discharge to come out.
Mother: Her... ah... uh...
Amy: Uh... er...
Me: HER VAGINA.
Vet: (to me) Thank you.
Mother (later, in the car) I hate that word.
Me: Vagina?
Mother: Yes. I was trying to think of a better word for it.
Me: VAGINA.

I read aloud the questions in Amy's book and quizzed her for a few hours, we had dinner at the Indian restaurant (Mother likes vegetable pakoras and ate the garnish off the plates which I thought was fearless for a woman who will not say VAGINA to the vet) and I saw an Indian woman PICK HER NOSE right at the table. Right there in the open. She fully swabbed the inside of her nose with her finger. Thank God I was done eating.

Aaanyway... I guess I felt better earlier but now am feverish and feeling like I want to have a nice big barf, so I suppose I'm getting more ill as I type. I have no idea what's going on with my health. Whee.

As I type this, Amy is taking her Insurance Exam. Poor girl. I hope she passes. I hope she passes by a goodly margin or she'll have an anxiety attack.

I hate insurance. Amy reminds me that just when she was going to move to California for a few months and study at an f/X school, my aunt mysteriously rushes over with this Insurance Plan.

Well I hate the Insurance Plan. If the Insurance Plan was corporeal, I would tear its throat out and drink its blood. I would jump up and down on its head while it screamed for mercy. I hate motherfucking boring life-ruining Insurance.

The Insurance Plan is soul-sucking, boring and a waste of precious time. It's a huge waste of talent. The Creator strikes you with lightning if you dare to waste the talents that you've been given, talents that you've carefully matured and worked on for YEARS. I'm so goddamned irritated, and I don't know why. I mean, I should be grateful (wheee! MY VERY OWN CUBICLE!) but I'm not, and I'm irritated FOR Amy and I shouldn't be I guess. It's just that it's so fucked up. You see a girl that can sculpt anything, who has real genius, and instead of encouraging her to sculpt you send her to insurance school. SURE, she can sculpt on the weekends, and be a fucking drone that sometimes, when she's not too tired, sculpts.

Also, John is the world's worst houseguest. I went downstairs this afternoon to get some ginger ale and he has literally used EVERY plate, cup and fork in the cabinets and then piled them in the sink. The faucet was hidden. I did dishes and told John that if I had a relapse, he was to blame. Then I ate some food and got sick again.