January
| Turns out, I wasn't on the mend. I may be now. Maybe. Here is my lament on the month of January, which is the peak of my literary achievement this month. Oh January! January! Thou art a month of poo! Oh how I yearn for February When January is through! You always start with such high hopes Never to fulfill! And I am left here, rather dopey In agony and ill! Laments have to have lots of exclamation remarks in them! Fortunately, my pain meds are still working very well, so agony is one thing I've had thankfully little of, except on that one day I forgot a pill. Modified Release means that you don't hurt at the point you're supposed to take them, not until a few hours later, at which point, when you take the tablet, it'll take another few hours before they'll begin to kick in. Fingers crossed I shall be writing something interesting soon (it's about the third time I've said that, I realise), but no promises. Labels: Bad Poetry, General Nonsense, Lurgy |




