I call on She Who (Sometimes) Gives And Saves Life with a Humble Plea:

Please.  I've had every other fucked up side effect.  I can't even tell the difference any more between the fatigue, depression, and general malaise that comes with my sleep disorder and the bone crushing exacerbation of fatigue, depression, and general malaise that comes from being poisoned by the wrong sedative.  Every fucking one.  So please, please let the fucked up side effect for this newest foray into Your Sacred Gifts be breast enlargement.  I need new bras anyway, and I'm used to the big boob back pain, and I absolutely can't be depressed and forgetful any more.  I'm taking this stuff so I can have a life. 

Yours in Devotion (or is it Exhaustion?),
P.

With the end of classes, whatever force of will or nature or whatever was keeping me on sort of a normal schedule just snapped right out of existence, and now I'm back on my natural sleep schedule.  This is particularly frustrating, as I'm between the devil and the deep blue sea, in a lot of ways - I feel great, right now, at 4:30 in the morning, because I slept until three this afternoon; there's some unconscious switch that flips on and off that lets me live not quite on this schedule, but I get to be miserable when that happens.  I'm dreading, a little, the conversation I have to have with my summer employer* about the Abnormal Circadean Rhythm of Doom, and I'm reading up a little on disability to help me out.  Posts I'm terribly grateful for this evening are here, here, and here; found at least one of them through troubleinchina.

*Badass feminist international comparative constitutional law professor - old girls' club, here I come.

Inspired by Cripchick and her Carnival of Disability.  I'm not sure if I'll submit this, if it's any sort of appropriate or if it will even be any good, but it's something I've been thinking about. 

Cripchick is so kind.  She doesn't just give you a due date and turn you loose.  There's a whole long list of possible topics.  And the first question is What is disability identity? If you are disabled, do you feel disability is a part of you and your experience?  And I don't know how to answer that question.  A year or so ago, I would have said, I am normatively able-bodied, but I am and always will be an ally.

Maybe that's still true.

Maybe it's not, though.