Y’all. I was at the post office picking up my mail and the very young clerk helping me suddenly became transfixed and started moaning loudly while looking at my chest. Like slack-jawed and audibly groaning loud enough that other people started looking and I thought, “Wow. My boobs have never had this effect on a man before so I guess I should be flattered but I’m also offended because YOU ARE CREEPING ME OUT, SIR, AND I DON’T KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THIS.
So I bent at the knees a little so that my boobs would be under the counter separating us but it didn’t help and the guy’s hands were trembling and he asked, “Did you donate blood?” and that’s when I realized that he was actually looking at the bandage around my arm from having blood work this morning and that I’d bled through the cotton ball and onto the gauze wrap, but before I could answer he turned pale and yelled, “I NEED TO GO SIT DOWN” and sprinted to the back room. And then I felt very relieved but also a tiny bit disappointed that my boobs didn’t suddenly have the power to render a man speechless. But then I reminded myself that I basically made someone almost pass out using only my inner elbow and that’s pretty impressive in itself.
PS. My boobs aren’t on my elbows. I just had my arm up on the counter to sign for the packages. It’s weird that I feel I have to clarify that.
PPS. I just got a call from my doctor about the blood work from last week and turns out my liver is still fucked up from the TB meds so I have to go on an additional medication (22 pills a day currently – a new, terrible record) to try to protect my liver and I also have to move from “under 3 alcoholic drinks a week” to “under zero alcoholic drinks a week” and I was like, “But can I still do heroin?” and she said, “Of course. I’m not going to make you give up carbs, sugar, alcohol AND heroin. I’m not a monster.” And that’s how I know that I have a good doctor. Because she gets my sense of humor. Not that she approves heroin.
Anyway, the news could be worse but it still makes me a tiny bit weepy because I’m a bit overloaded from the last eight months of constant you’re-not-dead-yet-but-we-don’t-know-why-not diagnoses but then I opened the mail and it was filled with old buttons and lovely notes and books and I was reminded that it’s going to be okay and that at least I didn’t have a disorder that makes me pass out when I see other people’s elbows.
That I know of.
PPPS. For those of you who missed the button discussion on twitter, I collect them. Then I pretend that my hands are Scrooge McDuck and the buttons are gold coins. It is incredibly relaxing. I’ll make a new video soon.
PPPPS. For those of you asking, yes, I will happily take your unsorted handfuls of unwanted buttons if you don’t want them. Here’s my address: TheBloggess.com / 14546 Brook Hollow Blvd. #400 / San Antonio TX, 78232.