I'm tired, yeh but really tired. I slept four hours after school today, and i have just put my hotty into my bed cos I am going to crawl in there in a minute. I am going to try taking iron again, and if that fails go get an iron booster I guess. I bought some sulpher today, I hope it helps my itching.. its like my skin is crawling all the time, but there is no evidence, no rash or any other weirdass ugly thing to suggest its anything serious, but its damned annoying.

I am overdue for a cervical smear. I don't care how gross it is, I don't feel like being nongross. Those smear tests freak some women out, I don't really care, I mean, I don't go looking forward to them but i just zone out and try not to wince. I guess I have put it off cos my doc is going to take one look at me, bend me over, and shove a big sharp needle full of iron into my butt cheek. He loves doing that, cos it leaves a nice brown stain for the next couple of weeks, not to mention the feeling like I have sat down hard on something. They do work though, for a while. I am just so sick of needles.

I would still rather be a woman, for all the poking and prodding we put up with, i would still rather be a girl. I like to be able to think of two billion things all the same time, I like being able to do four things at once, I like being able to pick up peoples feelings and hear words that arent spoken. A lot of men cant do that. I sacrafice a brain that can't cope with the concept of numbers, a small price to pay, i say.

It's weird when Sander is away. Not right. I keep thinking he's going to arrive, but of course he won't. And Thursday seems a long way away at the moment.

The Rocking Chair
9 August 1943
Pablo Picasso

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