Sinus pain is one of the worst pains I've ever experienced. Glad you got through it.

Today's second film will at least make my brother happy, because he's only been going on at me to watch it for about five years (I have this thing where the more someone hypes up a film to me, the more resistant I am to watching it, possibly out of spite).
letterboxd.com/film/troll-h...

My Watchlist is... eclectic, to say the least. "Batshit insane" might be another term for it. It's roughly 25% found footage, 25% Asylum films and Amityville films, 25% films by Koji Shiraishi, and 25% films of mystery quality that caught my eye for one reason or another.

Callie resists the cat carrier like Gandhi; Jareth resists it like Genghis Khan.

I also got the prescription-only nuclear-grade flea treatment for her, and the vet took pity on me and gave me enough for Jareth too without needing to see her, after I explained that the scars from Jareth's last vet visit two years ago had only just faded.

Callie doesn't like the vet. To be fair, it's less the vet specifically and more that they're humans who aren't me. So she spent most of the appointment trying to hide under the lip of the digital scales on the exam table. That didn't even have two inches of clearance.

I'm just very very tired of being bounced around like this when it's clear my notes are not being read.

(Incidentally, next month it will be three years since I was first put on the waiting list for an adult assessment for ASD, which doesn't help matters either but is a third, different matter again.)

He then told me he was a "very proactive" doctor, which... you had two months for this! My diabetes nurse and I have been handling everything without him just fine. And then just now he decides to change the date of my next blood test to something that suits *him* better.

I had gone to the surgery to try to get a form signed for an ID card (they were and still are utterly stymied by the concept of a digital form, but that's another story in itself) and rather than do that for me the Dr wanted to discuss my test results from nearly two months ago.

Diabetic nurse at the hospital looked at my numbers and was, yeah, you have to start injecting insulin. Which for a lifelong needlephobic was pretty traumatic to hear, but the nurse helped me find a way through it. Since then I've heard nothing from the doctor... till yesterday.

This is because, back in 2022, I mentioned off-hand that I was (at the time) studying Law and Criminology (BA, not LLB). This was apparently enough to convince my neighbours I was Perry Mason or somesuch.

Either Red Leicester or Wexford Chedder; red onion chutney; Worcestershire sauce; sweet chili sauce for dipping.