I have ears! Isn't that wonderful??

Or is it? I don't know anymore.
Nowadays, I don't know if I'm coming or going.
I don't know if I'm Arthur or Martha...
If I'm Tom or Jerry...
Frick or Frack...
Laurel or Hardy
I honestly don't.

I've been snowed under with one thing or another and it seems like the faster I go, the behinder I get.
I take 3 steps forward, and two steps back.... and nothing, but nothing, is getting accomplished around here.

I thought it was just me.
You know... just terminal laziness or lack of concentration on my part.
Overwork, or maybe even a brain tumor.
You know the kind of stuff.
(well maybe, I'm the only here with those silly hypochondriacal thoughts running through my head.)

The stuff that has you folding a heap of towels and then leaving them to just sit on the kitchen table for days on end, because putting them away seems like so much effort.
It just all seems so overwhelming and you almost want to cry because nothing is getting done.

Doing stupid stuff... like getting out of the shower only to realize that all the towels are still in the kitchen and you left the blinds open and you have no chance in hell of dashing across the living room in your birthday suit, without someone seeing you through the windows (which would cut down on peeping toms, I'm telling ya, if there were any out there) and laughing their arses off... leading to feeling of worthlessness and shame on my part.

And then to top it off, I've been feeling just a titch under the weather.
Nothing serious, and certainly nothing that I could put my finger on, but just not feeling 100%, ya know?

Sticky oozy eyes in the morning... a sore nose like I had been punched in a cat-fight over Tom Selleck or something, and a head that just felt a little more than a little top-heavy.
Trouble reading... in bed or otherwise, which was making taking first aid and child protection tests and quizzes a real chore and a worry... and wondering if the entire class would get the chance to practice first aid on little ol' me.
Being put into the recovery position, if I fell outta my chair and hit the floor, had me worried, let me tell ya, and I was so busy worrying about it, that I got behind... and that isn't like me at all. I'm usually pretty much "on the ball" and focused when it comes to class work and studying.
The teacher even asked me last night, if I had a history of epilepsy... which scared the chit out of me!


And then this morning, it hit me.
Literally.
I've been a bit dizzy and light-headed for days ( I said dizzy, not ditsy, so let's not be going there. We already know about the ditsy part.)
Anyhoo.... I got up this morning, made my usual mad dash to the tootie, and realized that the room was spinning a bit. Well, actually more than a little. I felt like I had had a night on the wine, without the tummy upset.
And instantly I said "AHA!

It's not me... it's my ears!
I've got that freakin' Labyrinthistis back again.

You know, the inner ear problem that throws your balance off and has you clutching madly at cute, spunky doctors and threatening to swoon in their strong manly arms.

The problem that has you feeling like you're on a roller coaster, tilt-a-whirl combination and you stagger around like you've been into the booze cupboard at 6am in the morning.
Throwing yourself into any available arms... manly or otherwise, just to keep from hitting the deck.
Not that it's that bad yet, but if it runs it's course like it has in the past, I'll be taking some time off work, rather than trip and fall on small smelly persons...
And of course cooking or housecleaning will be out of the question as well.
Good thing I have a helpful man around the house, eh?
(Oh Lord, just shoot me now...)

It's not a brain tumor, epilepsy, or early onset, senile dementia problem... or me losing my mind and going around the twist because of the hippy-dippy lifestyle I lived in 70's... like I thought it was... it's just too much juice in my head and ears.

I should have seen this coming, but with worrying about Jazzy and all... and running my arse off with stupid unnecessary night classes, and just the day-to-day drivel that goes on around here, it just never entered my pretty little head that it was anything actually physical.

So instead of working today, I think I'll take the day off and go see what cute manly doctors I can throw myself on.

I hope and pray that I get the cute spunky one and not the old guy with the bad comb-over and terminal dandruff. {{{shudders}}}
If I'm going to faint, I want someone cute and strong to be there for me...
I don't want to clutch at the old dandruffy doctor and end up with both of us on the floor.
It would ruin the day for both of us....

(Disclaimer:
I didn't re-read this at all to check for making one tiny little iota of sense, or do any spell-checking, so if it's absolute rubbish and totally incomprehensible... tough titties.
I have a good excuse.)