The last few weeks have swept through my life with all the force and fury of something quite forceful and furious. Ugh. I waste too much time trying to be all prose-y. I should treat this blog more like a free writing session. Remember those from elementary school where the teacher would write in gigantic perfectly formed hand writing a couple of inane topics on the board and you were supposed to write without ceasing for some ungodly amount of time- like 10 minutes or so? How did we ever survive basic primary education? The horror. I actually always liked free write time because I fancied myself something of a wordsmith in my youth. A skill that, as so many things in the life are akin to being, requires nearly constant practice and refining to maintain. How unfortunate. Early on, though, the trick is just to pick unique things to write about and no matter how terrible it is, the teacher will still likely find it more stimulating than the same text that they have read every year since the dawn of time. I love teachers. I wish I had become one. I always wanted to be a teacher until I realized that I didn't really like children much.

Anyway, so I've had a busy bit of life here. I'm gonna get real real and complain about my ongoing urinary tract infection. The one that will not quit. A very devoted and persistent strain of bacteria, really. Damn overachiever I've got. I'm almost done with my second round of antibiotics and it is still going strong. Apparently, it laughs in the face of danger. This is no mortal UTI. My next proposed treatment will be to either find and swallow handfuls of kryptonite or replace the whole urinary track with drinking straws and plastic baggies. Can anyone recommend a good surgeon for that who would be familiar with the process?

I would love to blog more, but I have to go take my antibiotic. Or, as I like to call it, the placebo.