So the last week or so has be really rough in my world. Before I go on anymore, fair warning, this post will contain mild profanity. If you’re offended, I’m sorry. Also if you’re offended you need to try swearing. It’s lovely.

Now, back to my week. Last week was pretty much an asshole to me. The first week back after a vacation is always rough, but when Monday starts with a doctor appointment, you know things are most likely going straight to hell soon.

Anyway, Monday I saw my rheumatologist. Got weighed and informed the nurse that was far too large a number. Got blood drawn and couldn’t even look at the cute blood-draw guy cause that might have meant seeing my own blood leaving my body which would have led to passing out and other embarrassing moments. Got put on a new medication by my doc who laughed at my jokes. All in all, not a terrible appointment. Work that day was rough but that is pretty much par for the course these days.

Fast forward to Tuesday and I get a call from my doc’s nurse. His new nurse, who I should mention is sweet but sort of short bus special. Great news. My blood work showed my liver was freaking the hell out. Stop the new meds. Stop the pain killers. Be kind to your liver. Come back in two weeks for more tests.

Now, if you don’t have rheumatoid arthritis you don’t understand how terrible that phone call was. Most of the meds we can take have liver related side effects. When your liver is out of whack, you can’t take much of anything until your liver tests come back normal. Also, you can’t have any adult beverages. Let me tell you, nothing makes you want a drink like blood tests that say you can’t have a drink.

I spent most of the week worried about my cry-baby liver. Between that and all the stress at work it has been rough. Also my tuition for my next semester of grad school is due soon and my “let’s sell things to increase income plan” isn’t working that great. Needless to say, by the time Friday rolled around I was a walking ball of stress and anger. A ball of stress and anger who wanted to stop at my favorite local Mexican food restaurant and drink all the margaritas until I felt less stabby. But I couldn’t. So instead I went home, had a pity party then decided to paint my kitchen and dining room.

When you can’t drink you redecorate, right?

So here it is, Monday again. I spent $50 on my kitchen redo which I think is worth in considering it helped me blow off steam. My dad (the man of no kind words) came by last night and said it looked great. I’m blogging from work so you can tell I’m not busy today. Maybe this week will be better than last week. I still won’t get a raise. I still won’t be able to drink or take pain killers. But I do have a pretty new paint job to come home to and the physical labor seems to have faded my anger over all the things in my world.

Here’s to a better week which I will toasts with a glass of ice tea. And chocolate. And possibly painting another room in my house.