I woke up 37 minutes ago.

I couldn't sleep all night because of the up and down motion of my blood sugar. 300 to 55 will greatly disrupt a diabetic's sleep. Especially when that happens twice. In 8 hours.

So that sucked.

My heart, it seems is doing a little meth while I slept, as well. I clocked in at 115 bps at one point during a dream (in the 10 minutes of rem I mustered into during all this) where I was swimming in the ocean looking for Goldie Hawn.

I like her, but the bitch stole my can of Diet Coke and I was very thirsty.

That sucked, but was strangely amusing.

I got up and noticed a distinct burning sensation coming from my underarm. With a smoky and the bear like orangutan-like curiosity I went into the bath to investigate. I am, it seems, allergic to my deodorant.

Tres magnifect!

I then went to change my bedding because, like a great deal of other diabetics, when my sugar is very low or very high: we sweat.

A shit load.

I removed my $125 super high thread count sheets to discover a series of huge, white, spots. SON OF A BITCH! I actually screeched this part out load, a make a sound similar to that of the reptile bird from HE-MAN. Apparently my sheets had a run-in with some bleach.

So unamused I can not even begin....

I showered and sang songs of my own making. Little ditties like: "I'll strangely you, silly high school boy", "My hairy parts make me Spanish", and "Blah, blah, blah,-woman why are you still taking". A shower classic.

I just finished checking my email and found one invitation to have coffee (which I never drink) with a long lost friend. A rejection from my cousin to come visit her next week. A nice response to a message I sent to one of my friend so we can talk at some point latter this evening.

Oh, and I got some nice 'private' pics from the GF. So I gotta go.

I may not be good for too many things but at least my life is not boring...

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