I just am. I’m annoyed that I’m still feeling like crap. I’m annoyed that I’m still throwing up in the mornings. I’m annoyed that I can’t walk with the dogs longer than about 4 blocks without breathing heavily and having to collapse on the couch when I return home. I’m annoyed that I’m going through this uncertainty YET AGAIN.
It’s a tedious sort of annoyance, the “ (sigh)here-we-go-again” sort of annoyance. The “this-isn’t-going-to-kill-me-but- it’s-going-to-make-my- life-less-spontaneous-and-fun-for-awhile” sort of annoyance. The annoyance that underlies my calm while I wait patiently at the clinic, getting stuck multiple times in the arm, knowing that this, too, will pass away. The annoyance that follows me into the kitchen every morning as I’m coughing up my bile-induced phlegm, trying to think of what sounds not horribly bad to eat. The annoyance that it’s spring in the Arboretum, and I’m in no shape to paddle slowly around the waterways, let alone all the way from Agua Verde, all the way across the shipping lanes, all the way down the Montlake Cut. The annoyance that my life, right now, is small and confined.
I’m annoyed.
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