ROUGH SEAS, SMALL BOAT

Lately I've been a bit short-tempered gruff brusque moody edgy sarcastic churlish testy cynical surly grumpy scathing etc. what have you and whatever pick a word, use your thesaurus, don't interrupt, it's not my natural inclination certainly which is kind and gentle, indeed often basely altruistic, to the point where I am perfectly willing to give an arm and a leg to a friend if need be. Ask me later.

Anyway, it's not really me it's not my fault it's all those M&Ms. The candy kind not my granddaughters (Mitsuki and Miasa, aka M&M). Because of all those M&Ms my gall bladder hurts, though not directly; nature moves in many devious ways but one of the most devious is called 'referred pain.' Which in the present case is not justly referred to the gall bladder lying sinisterly there beneath the liver, whence one might get a clue as to an appropriate rate and volume of M&M consumption but noooo, instead this bizarre right shoulder/back pain shows up one day out of nowhere and radiates thobbingly down my right arm like the leggy sciatica, thereby rendering me unfit for coherent gardening firewooding typing shaving toothbrushing punctuation M&M consumption you name it.

Maybe those Snickers bars had a hand in it too who knows, the scientists tell us nothing specific about the things that really matter at the personal level, it's all DNA and string theory, statistics and generalizations. But this sciatica of the arm (I’m sure there’s a proper scientific term for it you can look it up if you want to I’m gonna let my arm just hang here for a while) also makes my thought processes kind of rough, like this choppy effort - to say nothing of spelling with a game arm - since I can only effectively think between throbs which makes for rough creative seas in such a small boat as mine is.

You see already the metaphors are flying all over the place out of control (can creativity be wanton?) and all I can do is watch and wait for the current nerve-as-firehose to pass then leap one-armed back into the tempestuous text from a newly vacuous perspective, who has time for editing when you have to write a sort of desperate morse code as it is? Enough. I’m going to lay my arm on the desk.

Needless to say I've had my last ten bags of M&Ms. Maybe if I ate just one M&M at a time...