I've been having a rough day. First and foremost, it's Monday.
Beyond that, my car sputtered to a stop a week ago last Friday. After much back and forth with the dealer, the bottom line is I need a new engine that will cost me a small fortune. It was supposed to be ready Saturday, then again today. Now they're saying tomorrow. I'm on bus detail for work and have been trapped *TRAPPED!* inside my house for the last two weekends.
My medical ID bracelet broke (yet another one) and I have to take it in to get it repaired.
I have to give my dog her shot tonight. I had to crunch numbers at work today and I hate doing that. I was sluggy all weekend and all I can think today is about how I should've cleaned the bathroom, done laundry, etc.
Basically, I'm being beaten up by everyone, including myself. And when that happens, I turn to comfort food. Pizza. Mushroom pizza. And then a cookie. A Samba cookie. I blew my diet, but it felt good (except for the heartburn I'm having right now). I've been trying to train myself to turn to exercise as comfort, but it's not as tasty.
So now, three hours after my meal, I'm a little afraid to test my blood. I know it's going to be higher than it should be, but I'm thinking it may be lower as well. I've been exercising pretty regular lately and have been having some pretty good numbers.
I used the pizza as support earlier, now I'm using my blog as support while I test my sugar. Here goes...
Wave at arm to dry alcohol.
Stick strip in meter.
Poke arm and push down for blood.
Put stick into blood and wait for beep.
Wait for double beep with number.
Cover number with fingers before looking, then reveal one number at a time.
There's a 1.
There's a 0.
There's a 6.
Unfortunately, not in that order. 160.
It is done.
As always, more to come...