When I don't feel well, everything in my life looks worse. If it's already sucky, then I'm in trouble. I refer to my current condition as Sinus Hell, though, I'm sure there is probably a more official sounding name written in some medical journals...actually, I don't know what it is, but at this point in life, I blame everything on my sinuses. Menstrual cramps? It's my sinuses. Ingrown toe nail? My sinuses. Sad state of my love life? Sinuses. I would also blame my sinuses on my bad childhood and the state of world affairs, but I think there's a chicken and egg thing going on there...

So, last night, after laying my sinus-infection-ridden body down to sleeep, my smoke detector decided to go schizo at 1:00 am in the morning. After stacking books on a step ladder, I took it out. Twenty minutes later, the other one went off. There's something about the piercing sound of smoke detectors randomly going off when you're not feeling well that makes you wonder if God gets off on all His power (Ok, I don't really believe in that kind of God...but I can't think straight when I'm in sinus delirium). I would make a joke about how vulnerable my apartment is to fire and smoke (seeing as it has no functioning detectors), but I'm too superstitious...

On Friday night I accepted Relentless' offer to come over and have a piece of the cake he had just baked. I was bored and lonely, and thus, susceptible to two things he could provide 1) cake and 2) male attention. When I arrived, I entered an apartment that felt like it has leaped straight out of the Pottery Barn catalogue. Spotless. Immaculately decorated.

I know, I know...Baking? Clean, nicely decorated apartment? Great. My one suitor is a closeted homosexual. Damn sinuses.

Just for today, I'm not happy.