Instead clicking on every blog that I've ever read, hoping that someone has updated, I should be down at the rental house working. I just can't bring myself to go there. It has gotten to the point that it is physically painful to lift a paintbrush or sandpaper. The voices in my head start screaming in agony as soon as I approach the rental house. They literally beg me to go back to bed. To find something else to do.
I am burned out big time. I need to leave. I can't stay here another week. I can't. I can.t. I can't. I can't. Imagine me in the fetal position rocking back and forth. Gah!
I spoke on the phone to a fellow Bionic Valentine last night. She recently had her valve replaced (August of this year) It was very cool, and she is awesome. (Hello, Susan!) It is not every day or even every month that I find someone who is in the same boat as me. Being a young, female BV is not super common. However, tonight, I will hopefully talk to another one. Both of these lovely ladies found me through this here blog. Thank you, blog.
Okay, I guess if I want to go home this weekend, I had better drag my ass down the street. And paint. Or use sandpaper. Or something.
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