Eventually, evidence is proof

It's 3:30 a.m., which is fine because I am a night owl, and I'm also a little hypomanic right now.  I've started freelancing, and this project I'm working on is about bipolar disorder, and when you're hypomanic you don't care if it's 3:30 a.m. and you're writing advice about how not to be hypomanic because you're pretty sure you don't have bipolar disorder because how can an illness feel this good?

Anyway, I'm sitting at my desk using my desktop computer because the plug on my laptop is wiggly.  I've been here for a few hours.

Back up -- I haven't sat regularly at a desk since I quit my AmeriCorps position back in April or May.  Since then, I've been waitressing, which involves a lot of standing and walking.  At home, working or reading or making ringtones like I was NOT doing an hour ago, I've been slouching in bed.  In all other situations, I am usually tumbled around like Flaming June.

And since April or May, I've been thinking back on how bad my pain was last winter.  Sometimes just executing a single Flaming June tumble made me cry.  It was like when the T-1000 falls into molten steel and melts into a hundred terrible faces at the end of Terminator 2.

At the time, I thought my pain was because I was sitting so much.  Then, when my pain got better after I quit AmeriCorps, I thought the bad flares must've been due to stress.  But here I am, having sat maybe six hours total with breaks, and my cooch is a-flare and my butt feels like it's growing aliens.

I need to start keeping a list of CONFIRMED vulvodynia observations.  Yes, Esther, you've done that experiment THREE HUNDRED TIMES with the same result.

I understand that I'm a skeptic by nature, but I think at this point it's more like self-flagellation.  This pain MUST be some form of melodrama...

P.S. The new Blogger interface just told me that my blog has had 37,542 page views!  I think that's pretty good for a blog about something no one has heard of.