They say laughter is the best medicine -

But what I didn't know until last night was that laughter can also be a powerful aphrodisiac.

After a month resisting watching anything creepy, I finally felt comfortable enough to watch a show Jesse had said I would love. "The Santa Clarita Diet", a show about an undead woman and her supportive family. (I'm into funny zombie shows lately.) It's morbid. It's bloody. It's sarcastic and shriek inducing at all levels.

And it was FUCKING HILARIOUS. The humor is all gallows humor, all quick retorts, sarcasm, and the hilarity of normal people getting thrown into very ABnormal situations. I loved it. That's MY kind of humor! I watched 5 episodes in a row, which is damn near unheard of.

And so I laughed. Laughed so hard that I thought I might crack my rib open again. And about halfway through, I realized that I was feeling so good that I wanted to bone Jesse. That I had THE ENERGY to bone Jesse. This is the first time in eight months that the desire to have sex and the ENERGY to have sex have lined up in unison.

So I did. I even initiated! That alone is a sign of wildly good health returning. I am not broken! I DO have a sex drive. I just haven't had the energy to do anything with it.

And then I watched something side-splittingly hilarious (in this case, concerning the broken rib, perhaps literally) and realized that maybe, just maybe, I need to do more things that make me laugh. More things that make me feel delight.

It was such a wonderful return to not only sexual activity, but in finding humor and joy in such a terribly morbid show. That feels like me.

The day had even started in an equally wonderful place, as I had woken up with enough energy to do six loads of laundry, an hour of errand running, and regular cleaning. I even got the KITCHEN, which is usually Jesse's zone to take care of.

(He's been in a lot of pain these days, so when I can, I try to make his day a little easier. Do the dishes. Set up the coffee pot so all he has to do to get fresh coffee is to flip the ON switch. Stuff like that.)

One thing I am learning with the lupus fatigue is that when you have the spoons, you damn well better bust your ass and get as much done as you can possibly get done - because there is no guarantee you will have that kind of energy tomorrow, or the day after, or even for WEEKS after.

It can lead to pushing too hard, which I realize today will be spent "making up" for all that activity with some serious bed rest, but goddamn, it was SO FUCKING WORTH IT.

I'm coming back. It's still a long road ahead, with plenty of bad days and angry entries and assuredly more hospital stays to feed the fire of frustration. But last night proved I am not broken.

I'm sick.

Not irreparable.

This entry was originally posted at
You know what this is called like? "Life goes on."
Really, it's the kicking-in of one's usual habits even though being in an altered situation.
And due to your powers being put into the limits of this altered situation, your habits adapt to these, how and when they can come out besides really not losing them.
It'll be only a question then how your fatigue works in itself.

If you see then you have days where your energy level is quite good, it's alright using such days then to do chores that otherwisely pile up on days when you have trouble being a few hours out of bed.