I've continued to do pretty well with the reduction of stress and stuff, even handling an Epic PDD-Driven Meltdown from one of the two children here on the spectrum with a fair amount of aplomb (which, well, I always do EXTERNALLY but this time interally too I was just all "this is not a new thing, I got this"). I just refuse to take on stress. Re. Fuse.
Right about the time I was planning how I'd narrate the audiobook version of my best-selling self-help Assvice Diatribe myself and give Belleruth Naparstek a run for her sweet, soothing multimillions, Bad Ear started to hurt again. Fuuuck. I had already mentally canceled the Oral Surgery consult on my jaw, y'know? But now I would go into the appointment with the knowledge that handling The Situation is truly beyond my control, and feel good about placing my wellbeing in the hands of others, ommmmm.
Today I woke up full-blown sick with crap lungs and Hotter's computer just upped and died.