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Ouchie


Dear Body,

Yes, I know there was a mix-up with the prescriptions, and you did not have the extended release painkillers you are used to for the last week.  I promise that will be changing in the next couple of days.  But do you have to protest with this bone-deep ache?  It's not like you aren't being fed other painkillers, after all - you're getting two kinds.

This ache, it's preventing me and Brain from getting any decent sleep, and it's not helping us work out our obsession with creating little doll house bits, since you're grouching every time I use the scissors.  It's not like I'm demanding you hold anything heavy for extended periods of time...

...okay, yes, I did blow-dry my hair this morning with the big hair dryer, but I couldn't find the little one.  You like nice hair, right?  It looks great - and I didn't notice you complaining when we dyed it (though that might be because I silenced you with extra drugs).  Honestly, we're of the same mind when it comes to looking femme, I know this, so stop whining.

Oh, fine.  Yes, I am using a cane these days, but it's for balance - you prefer the slight ache from leaning on a cane to the sharp pain of falling over, right?  Sometimes I get a bit wobbly, and careening off walls as we walk is less than fun, you must agree.  I know the cane is slightly cumbersome, but I try not to lean on you too much, just when I'm really afraid I'm going to take a tumble.

And it's a really pretty cane, yes? I know, Bob asked us why we didn't get the Flame cane like Dr. House uses, but I know you prefer one that's a little more discreet and goes with more outfits.

See? I'm looking out for you, baby. So shut the fuck up.

Please.

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