Let Us Live, My Lesbia, Let Us Love

Greetings my followers and welcome to another glimpse of the vomit filled whirlwind that is my life. Yes, you heard right, I have been having EVEN MORE POORLIES because my body is a MASSIVE FAILURE... Ack. Smack. Chack. When oh when oh when will it learn?

So. The story. Just as I was starting to feel a bit well and normal and stuff at the end of last week Constanze's insides went on strike and I was violently sick for the whole weekend. Just gallons and gallons of sick. No other symptoms, no temperature, no shits, no cough etc, just nautical miles of vomit. This was annoying as I had epic Cambridge funtimes planned. I did actually try and go out but my bus didn't turn up so I took that as a sign that I probably shouldn't go and be sick on my friends. So I went back home, napped and sulked for a little while before another one of my friends paid a surprise visit (well, he gave me a whole ten minutes warning) and we had vodka which was QUITE POSSIBLY THE WORST LIFE DECISION I HAVE EVER MADE. IF YOU ARE BEING SICK THEN FOR THE SAKE OF THE LORD CHEEZUS DO NOT DRINK VODKA. So as you can imagine that made for a horrific evening of playing naked dares and vomiting on repeat. Needless to say Sunday was not a happy day. I went to Tesco and accidentally bought three packs of ham. I guess that is actually quite a good thing but I forgot all the other things I needed so who knows, mysteries and confusions. The word moron doesn't even begin to cover me sometimes.

I'm just amazed at some of the colours that my stomach has been making. That never ceases to impress. I didn't eat anything all the time I was being sick and yet the vast array of shades and tones that were coming up were amazing. As usual I wasn't sure if photos were appropriate. Probably not. CHOICES. I feel quite like a prune today. Like a sexy disgusting green haired prune. And I can't really rehydrate myself easily; I've stopped being sick but any amount of liquid in my stomach makes me feel as queasy as a pirate's parrot. I'm a bit confused as to why I was so sick, I mean, I hadn't eaten anything out of the usual and we all know my gut is built like an iron fortress. Maybe it was just my stomach saying ENOUGH OF THESE SMELLY FAKE CHEMO TABLETS BEGONE I TELL YOU or HO HO HO I AM GOING TO FUCK UP YOUR WEEKEND THIS IS REVENGE FOR ALL THAT BLUE DYE YOU EAT. But anyway, it is a strange occurrence that shall never be solved. All we know now is that I am slowly regaining normal gullet ability and am entering back into the life of someone who digests food in a normal way. PARTY.

I really hope all this hasn't made me lose any more weight. Losing weight makes me a GRUMPY CONSTANZERRRRRRRR!!!!!!

It's also been a bit of a weird week because my bestie bestie best cancer friend is in hospital being very poorly indeed. Very worried. Very sad. I will be utterly devastated if anything happens to her. It also just brings up all those guilt feelings I have, how I managed to get off so lightly with my cancer while considerably nicer and better and more beautiful people than me keep getting kicked in the shins. I will never understand why I got chosen to be so lucky. It's not as if I'm going to go on and save humanity, if anything I'm hindering it by promoting Eurovision and low morals and Wednesdays and stuff. Sometimes I don't understand the world and the decisions of the dice and the mother nature and whoever else is deciding. But then is is all just random. Just random happenings in cells. Random happenings in cells in random people across the Earth and the universe. We're all just biology, nothing more. I guess I find solace in knowing that bad things don't happen because of god's maliciousness, just from the dice of nature being thrown. No one's out to get you. Except statistics. Spam. I really don't know.

I've just remembered that I still haven't sorted myself out a Luton GP. MUST DO THAT I NEED SOME DRUGS OR I WILL NOT BE BUENO. They all have really crappy rating though, like proper dodgy. I suppose all I really need them for though is prescriptions. Use them and abuse them, steal their drugs and run. And a dentist. Need to get organised. Speaking of which, I really need to go and do some paperwork. LIKE SERIOUSLY. Sort my life out and stuff, my flat has water and I'd like it to keep having water but that isn't going to happen unless I fill in forms stating that I am alive and want water. I want to be able to wash and stay smelling SEXY AND WONDERFUL. And also do the pots and and make tea and all that jazz. All the importantz stuffz. So I shall leave you all here with beautiful mental images of me being sick in a variety of receptacles, like an amazing new act on Britain's Got Talent.

Nighty night from the lovelorn universe,
Constanzistan :) xXx