the urge to purge

For the most part I've outgrown the urge (and purged the internet validation monster) to display my knickers from the castle window but today the granny panties are so twisted they might be classified as a blunt force object should I deem it necessary to bludgeon a soul with them. And today? Pretty much any soul will do. You see, all my efforts to improve my physical situation this year have resulted in a tooth extraction, a 'degenerative disorder' diagnosis and now? "you have this and this so you need this pill and this pill. Shall we call them in for you?" The one thing I thought I could get under control in my life - ME - refuses to submit. And my Viking heart can't process IRE and GRIEF simultaneously. Bacon won't fix this. Pray for the husband, will you? He lives with me. At ground zero. And bacon has always been his go to....