Generation "Y (Are You Here?)"

You can wrap up my idea of happiness and sprinkle it with powdered sugar.

(...and then give my future self diabetes? Candy-coat me, baby.)

It is fortunate my baseline for happiness is the ability to stuff my face with fried dough without the worry I will involuntarily throw it up. I'd like to thank San Sebastiano for having a feast day so perfectly timed, rolling every unhealthy Italian food I could want into my (almost) backyard during this period of able-to-chew-and-swallow. I'd also like to thank my potassium levels again, for their cooperation in getting me temporarily kicked off the trial long enough to be able to sneak away from the house for a few hours without (physical or mental) collapse. This must be what the kids who cut 8th period in high school felt like: some bliss, some adrenaline, slight touch of guilt.

Eating. What a joy! Being able to take large bites, knowing the digestion thing will just sort of "happen"...magic.

Anti-nausea medication -- what a whirl. Big ups to you too, my man.

I'm in a good mood. Mind is a-buzzing. Living it up while I can.

By living it up I mean my day-to-day included the casual blood test, because they forgot to check if I was pregnant during Monday's. 

The conversation went a little like this:
Me: Dude. I have one vein left. And it is still bruised from the past 3 blood tests.
Clinical Trial Nurse: LOL, fuck your veins!

During said blood test, the nurse gave my mother the low-down on her 22-year-old daughter who lies around all day and the stampede of 15-year-olds on welfare coming in with children and expensive shoes and all I could think was "Oh god this woman thinks I am some vicious combination of her hack daughter and every pregnant adolescent she's ever encountered." It is at such times I wish I had some sort of membership card, stamp, tattoo that signals to the world that I am not living in my parent's house by choice, omission, lack of job offer. Do they offer these things? And can I get it with the Penn crest? Something that implies "This person accomplishes shit occasionally. Also, she is totally not pregnant." (...as of last week's blood test.) 

But le sigh, there was no time for me to "accio" my degree, as indignant nurse was busy going off on the laziness of Gen Y (which she made sure to  clarify as "Why are you here?") I was fuming, which happens to look a lot like smiling and nodding.

Sometimes I wonder if this thing is just one big joke.