Yes, in the ongoing saga of Librarian’s Gonal-F, those words have been uttered.
Last night started off okayish. I got the big syringe on and injected the water. Badabing. Then I flipped it over and pulled the plunger and got most of it. So i did it one more time and it was all (or as much as is humanly possible) in there. Badaboom.
So I cap the big syringe and yank that sucker off. I’m thinking I’m golden now. I put the little syringe on and take the cap off and…the syringe comes with it. So I put it back on making sure it’s REALLY tight on there, and the syringe comes off again. and again. and again.
Librarian, starting to tear up: “I’ve broken it. I am not smart enough to do this!”
Chief: “Let me see”
Librarian, turning into a jerk: “NO. JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE OKAY?”
Eventually what happened was I threw caution to the wind, uncapped the little syringe, and then screwed it on. That cap was on there good and it just kept pulling the syringe off with it.
So then I injected, and it hurt. And I felt pathetic for about 10 minutes. And then I snuggled with Chief and watched food network. About an hour later I said I was sorry for being cranky pants. And he, being Chief said it was ok. Because nothing sticks to him, thank goodness, because I’m a giant jerk.
Yesterday I just felt irrationally weepy and sad. I kept thinking about awful things happening. I don’t know if I’m just in a morose mood or if it’s the drugs or maybe a little of both. I’m not feeling much better today. I’m seriously thinking about canceling dinner with my dad on Sunday. Calling in sick. I have to make a birthday cake for my mom tonight before Zumba. Luckily I’m getting off work a little early. Ugh. I’m just ready to be done stimming. I have a horrifying feeling that on Saturday I’m going to go in and nothing is going to have grown.
I’m down in the dumps, and I don’t have much right to be, so please just ignore it.