buffalo

Hmm. The witch doctors have informed me that the one buffalo I've been busy digesting is not enough to make me feel like getting out of bed in the morning. I need to eat TWO buffalo, and also present myself for shots daily for a week, and weekly thereafter. If I do not, they might want to stick someone else's icky cootie blood in me instead. So, it's shots and buffalo, here on out.

Apparently I have a wee nutritional deficiency. Could it be because I spent the first several months of pregnancy puking my guts up and living on lemonade and vegetarian sushi? And sour patch kids and bagels? Let this be a lesson to you all: take your stupid prenatal vitamins, so you can enjoy twice the puking and still end up prostrate around on the floor gasping like a starving vampire. I asked the nutritionist why I couldn't just drink blood. I thought you were all about the sustainable agriculture, she said. Yeah, well, it'd be pasture-fed blood, I replied.

Also in the news, there's too much fucking shit to do. I have to tot up all the money we've spent on prescription drugs this year so I can convince the insurance company to actually count that as part of our deductible, which they should be doing anyway, because they know every time we fill a prescription. No doubt it's a slightly different computer system that does the pharm stuff, and they don't talk. Can't we all just get along?