My leg muscles have been ravenously twitching for over 12 hours and it's official - I need to go in a bin.
I probably need thorough testing by a good specialist, but seeing as I haven't found one in a decade, I must go in a bin now.
Sleep may help, but you can't sleep when your legs are stockings filled with electronic pinballs and a huge cramp is only half a second's warning away.
I know I'm meant to be grateful for a lot of things. I should be happy to be alive and in a first world and have cool hair. But try enjoying a roadtrip in a car with the engine scraping the road. Try even getting from A to B. Try not panicking that mechanics shrug even though the car is filled with fumes that make you dizzy and sick.
I've mixed my metaphors again.
I probably need thorough testing by a good specialist, but seeing as I haven't found one in a decade, I must go in a bin now.
Sleep may help, but you can't sleep when your legs are stockings filled with electronic pinballs and a huge cramp is only half a second's warning away.
I know I'm meant to be grateful for a lot of things. I should be happy to be alive and in a first world and have cool hair. But try enjoying a roadtrip in a car with the engine scraping the road. Try even getting from A to B. Try not panicking that mechanics shrug even though the car is filled with fumes that make you dizzy and sick.
I've mixed my metaphors again.
Anyway,
come cut off my legs so I can sleep, because you can feed them to your
rescue dog as soon as the spasms stop - which could be after the first
bite, who knows.
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