As a novelist, as a communications professional, I don't ever blog. Never have. Just don't put myself out there like this. Usually. This is different...so here goes...
My embarrassingly fat lab-cross-ridgeback, ate my meds. My fault. Left them on the counter after I'd gotten home very late last night from the hospital. He loves ju jubes. Frankly, he loves everything. I'll pretend from here on in, or something.
I'm eating well so far. But then again, I always do. My wife is a former food-writer and restaurant reviewer. Spoiled, I am. We had an Israeli cous cous stew thing tonight.
Been too busy to get to the wellness centre since Monday. Hopefully tomorrow.
Yeah, yesterday was a complete right-off. I put in a 14 hour day. Skipped dinner until 9pm (stale egg salad sandwich and an old muffin...all I could find at the Hospital at that time.) I didn't blog. Didn't test. I'd hate to think of what would have happened to me if this was real and I acted that way. How do people do it?
Just took my blood sugar. The prick didn't phase me. (They never do.)