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Unfuckening incipient

I've just been informed that the garage unfucking will cost $90 extra, which I am taking out of the other banking account because (a) I have it there and (b) the way our budget is, we can't afford to do it any other way.

I also owe Mayhem more money for services rendered.

In health news, the soonest I can see my preferred quack is next Monday. The good news is that I haven't had a major asthma flare-up in a long while. The bad news is that a major flare-up could happen at any time and for any reason.

Having asthma is kind of like living with a serial killer that likes to suffocate their victims. You never know when you're going to wake up with a serious lack of oxygen. Or when the next attack is going to be.

And of course the unfucking is going to have lots of dust and spores and allergens flying about. Fortunately, I know where some dust masks are. Unfortunately, they always make me anxious about my air supply and don't always work.

I'll probably wind up on Max and ploughing through my remaining meds before Monday.

In less palatable health news, I have some uncomfortable digestion issues centring around clogged pipes. I need a bit more fibre in my diet, it seems. I'm planning to get some mascarpone from the shops anyway, and we have celery, so a stick or two of that and I should be fine.

I hope.