monday! the day of monday

So thought. Walking into GNC, I actually am the equivalent of a wounded antelope on the savannah of vitamins and healthy living among jackals of salespeople who try to sell me papaya pills and more B-complex.

Papaya pills. Jesus.

I somehow--no idea how--got a new thing of multivitamins, and I have to admit, either the placebo effect is really amazing or the last two days, I have felt more energetic and less likely to not wnat to move, sloth-like, from my bed for long periods of time. My credit cards shiver in horror now, because seriously, New Year sales. I want to shop. Which explains why in the last week I have purchased three new pairs of shoes, a large bottle of Lingonberry concentrate (I think?), a new router (rabbit chewed through cord--seriously, do not ASK), two lamps (one for Child! Really! It's colorful!), and controlled the urge to use my Victoria Secret card in inappropriate ways involvign really awesome designer bras.

I lost my train of thought. Right. Papaya pills. Did not buy them.

I actually went in for Siberian Ginseng, ended up getting a three-ginseng and something else and me staring at what looks like powdered leaves in a large gelatin capsule. They also hinted heavily that I was a prime candidate for--I have no idea what it was, but it was in a very large bottle and scared me.

Seriously. Papaya pills?

I think the ginseng is making me slightly irritable? But I'll need to check and make sure. I can honestly state I am *really* energetic, in the vibration state. Not unpleasant, but a tiny bit disconcerting.

Other Things

Second draft of fic done. I am just amazed I actually finished something and even got it beta'ed. Like, a lot. And it has to do it again! Though to be fair, I changed enough and moevd enough stuff around from the first draft that it needs it, to make sure I didn't screw up my own continuity.

More Other Things

Work boring. Send help. Or you know, porn.

updates on the rabbit that hates me.

Mr. Waffles--who I basically renamed to Waffles, because somehow, the horror is just that much less--had a checkup about two weeks ago or so, due to my hysteria. Anyway, they did some kind of enzyme test on his liver, had the test redone somewhere else, and on Wed, my vet called to say that it came back positive, so Waffles has a parasite.

Not a big deal! he said heartily, while I hyperventilated into the phone. After calming me down, he explained in short words that there was medication, and all I needed to do was give it to him and voila! Healthy rabbit! Nothing we can do about the attitude, he didn't say but he also didn't offer me a rabbit anti-psychotic, so a fat load of good he did me in the bunny mental health division.

The problem here is, my relief kind of blocked out what exactly I'd be giving him and how often. Saturday, when I got the bottle, I stared in horror at what I was expected to do with the rabbit who chewed through my network router, chewed on the toe of my brand new shoes, and sometimes lunges for my jugular.

Mouth feed 17 cc once a day.

For twelve weeks.

Two days down. No scars. Yet. Eleven weeks and five days to go. God. I may not make it.