My day started out so nice. Then other people got involved.
Got up this morning in a bit of a rush, because I had a doctor's appointment. Came back from that, fed my dragon, and sat around waiting for Dad to be ready to go to the Milwaukie courthouse. Dad insisted that I get his Humalog (fast acting insulin) in the travel thermos, which I should have seen as a sign of ѕhit to come. I packed his Humalog, along with my pre-meal Admelog, just in case, the whole while hoping we'd be back for the special National Waffle Day meal I had planned.
Of course we weren't. 😡
First thing, as I said earlier, as we left the courthouse, he went with our tenant to a nearby restaurant, and by the time I got there, he had ordered a Belgian waffle. When I scolded him for ordering waffles at 4:00 in the afternoon while diabetic, he offered me half. I knew I couldn't, so I said no, then told him I wasn't going to watch him self-destruct. Went outside and got in my car and started the engine. Texted Mom and told her I was done as his diabetic nutritionist, and that I planned to go apartment hunting ASAP. She scraped me off the ceiling as only she can, and I sat and waited for him to be done instead.
When he came out, he assured me he had only eaten half the waffle. I Googled it, because I knew he wasn't going to relent until I did, and proved that it was still over 30 carbs. (For a diabetic, a snack is 0-15 carbs, and a meal is 30-60 carbs. Not sure why that's so complicated.) Mom was apprised that Waffle Day was ruined, at least for Dad. (If you're wondering, I bought frozen keto waffles, with only about 3 carbs per. It was going to be great.)
Onward and upward. We went to our problem rental home to see about rent money. Dad ended up talking to Ignacio's uncle (whose name is also Ignacio). Around about 6:15, the time I SHOULD have been taking my Admelog and eating, Dad and Uncle Ignacio both got into my car, and I was told we were going to run over to Plaid so Ignacio could cut us a money order.
Plaid didn't have enough money. Because of course they fuсking didn't. Why would they? So now we had to go up 82nd Avenue during goddamn rush hour to the Walmart at Eastport Plaza. We were waiting there, I ѕhit you not, until 7:40 p.m.! Because why not? It's only my life on the line!
Didn't get home until 8:30, because construction traffic. So now I have a dilemma. I can either skip my 10 p.m. Admelog, or wait until 11, then stay up until 3 or 4 to make sure my sugar doesn't get fuсked overnight.
Literally just fuсk humanity.
Of course we weren't. 😡
First thing, as I said earlier, as we left the courthouse, he went with our tenant to a nearby restaurant, and by the time I got there, he had ordered a Belgian waffle. When I scolded him for ordering waffles at 4:00 in the afternoon while diabetic, he offered me half. I knew I couldn't, so I said no, then told him I wasn't going to watch him self-destruct. Went outside and got in my car and started the engine. Texted Mom and told her I was done as his diabetic nutritionist, and that I planned to go apartment hunting ASAP. She scraped me off the ceiling as only she can, and I sat and waited for him to be done instead.
When he came out, he assured me he had only eaten half the waffle. I Googled it, because I knew he wasn't going to relent until I did, and proved that it was still over 30 carbs. (For a diabetic, a snack is 0-15 carbs, and a meal is 30-60 carbs. Not sure why that's so complicated.) Mom was apprised that Waffle Day was ruined, at least for Dad. (If you're wondering, I bought frozen keto waffles, with only about 3 carbs per. It was going to be great.)
Onward and upward. We went to our problem rental home to see about rent money. Dad ended up talking to Ignacio's uncle (whose name is also Ignacio). Around about 6:15, the time I SHOULD have been taking my Admelog and eating, Dad and Uncle Ignacio both got into my car, and I was told we were going to run over to Plaid so Ignacio could cut us a money order.
Plaid didn't have enough money. Because of course they fuсking didn't. Why would they? So now we had to go up 82nd Avenue during goddamn rush hour to the Walmart at Eastport Plaza. We were waiting there, I ѕhit you not, until 7:40 p.m.! Because why not? It's only my life on the line!
Didn't get home until 8:30, because construction traffic. So now I have a dilemma. I can either skip my 10 p.m. Admelog, or wait until 11, then stay up until 3 or 4 to make sure my sugar doesn't get fuсked overnight.
Literally just fuсk humanity.
