Now it's fourteen.

Ouch. More pain than ever.

Today, Anthony was officially taken off snareline. That would automatically mean that my snare line spot is secure. But another problem comes to face me. A very serious problem. None of the snare harnesses fit me right to be comfortable in moving. We sawed off the J-bars that helped alittle. We marched more and played. Tiring, by the way. Then adjusted the harness which cripled me. So I didn't play the rest of the evening. The next move would be either to pad the harness more, which I don't think will work, or to buy a new harness. Worst comes to worst, Mr. P wants me on bass line. That's ok. At least I'll know I have what it takes to make snare line just not the right size. So it's not that upsetting now to get a bass. Nice.

I'm in pain everywhere and stretching just doesn't cut it anymore. Neither does hot baths. and both my hands are fucked up.

And Oh yeah, I went to the doctor's to get my physical done. I didn't think they would take my blood. I forgot that they did that by pricking your finger. Good thing they didn't test for drugs. I'd be screwed. I skipped out on the urine test for the third year in a row by saying I got my period. Oh, and I got six shots and a TB test. That's seven needles niggaaaas.


I'm badass.