I Should Start Adding Fotos To These

Last I checked in, my intrepid readers, I hated my job.

...I still do.

Yesterday I went to the doctor because my hands were giving me grief like whoa. (Which leads me to a brief sidenote-when did the ENTIRE INTERNET forget how to spell the word "whoa"? WHEN? HOW? It seems to have mutated into this bastardization of this thing, woah, which is not how it's spelled. Woah is not in the dictionary. Woah is not found in the OED. Do you know what is? WHOA. W H O A. That is all for today's spelling lesson.)

My hands - and my forearms - have been giving me grief. They're numb, they hurt, they tingle. It came upon me kind of suddenly and that didn't sit well with me. I made an appointment with my regular doctor, as I have an appointment with my neurologist next Thursday and I'm really rather impatient.

My doctor decided it was either one of the uckiest cases of tendonitis/carpal tunnel (in both hands because yey) he's seen in years, or it's a side effect of my super awesome tremor disorder. In the meantime, I get to wear stupid looking wrist braces. In a fit of awesomeness, the CVS I stopped at on the way to work didn't have one for my left wrist. That's probably a good thing as I don't think I could wear both of these silly things and do my job.

I'm supposed to wear them even when I sleep. I'm extra sexy these days. I've got two weeks of wrist shenans, unless the neuro tells me otherwise.

or I quit.


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