Why Doesn't God Make Sure We're On Speaking Terms Before Pissing Me Off Again?

Histo-pathological changes in a case of :en:co...

Image via Wikipedia (Valley Fever, which look a lot more like cotton candy than the asshole disease it really is.)

Just throwing that one out there. You know? It would seem like, if He wants me to come around to the idea of maybe picking back up this relationship we used to have where we’d chat and stuff, that He might not want to piss me off as a means of getting me to talk to Him. Just a thought. But, what the fuck do I know.

In the mean time, I’m still requesting that other people do my praying for me (a really weird feeling and lesson and perhaps God’s master plan—again, WTF do I know). This week, I had to put the call out for prayer requests for my sister-in-law’s husband, Lawrence, who’s been suffering from a 4-month long mystery illness that they originally thought was H1N1, then a respiratory infection, then pneumonia, then something else, then cancer, and now Valley Fever and some secondary infections related to the Valley Fever, I think. It’s hard to keep track, but no matter what, it sucks ass. He’s in the hospital, in a bad way, and in need of some good juju and good medical care and people who have an in with the powers that be to make him all better.

Personally, I’ve been coping by eating all of the Halloween candy. And flipping off the universe. With both hands. Super helpful, I know.

Bug and I did cook a nice dinner tonight. We were flying solo this evening. Bob has a race and Peanut is visiting her cousin. So, my master chef and I whipped up a nice shrimp arrabiata. It’s one of Bug’s favorites. He let me cook the noodles. I was honored.

Universe, you’re on notice. You better get your shit together. Enough with the chain yankin’. I’m down to the nasty-ass candy.