Sweets for the suite
Perhaps you will enjoy a short tour of my home away from home. I'm staying in what's called a junior suite a large room with a queen-sized bed, a fold-out sofa, and a full kitchen. There's a table with three chairs where I can enjoy a tasty snack, and a bathroom with all the amenities where I can enjoy, well, all the amenities (or could, if the drugs didn't carry the unfortunate side effect of epic constipation).
This is my desk, equipped with laptop, beverage, medical records (for those spur-of-the-moment urges to rifle frantically through the highs and lows of the last year, which arise more frequently than I care to admit), picture of Paul, and a large bag of chocolates.
The chocolates come courtesy of Brenda, who is starting stims herself, and therefore knows what a girl needs. In her staggering generosity, Brenda sent not only the chocolates, which are emitting an aroma so seductive I'm getting a little high just sitting near them, but some leftover medication. A heartfelt and public thank you.
Now on to the bathroom. The imperial Chinese had their Forest of Pencils; I have my Thicket of Needles. (Why do I do this, these little asides? You'd almost think I wanted unsuspecting searchers to stumble across this page in their quest for information about Confucian attitudes toward learning. Won't they be just tickled?)
Here are the contents of my refrigerator. Caffeine-free Diet Pepsi, mousse truffée, a couple of raw milk cheeses (take that, immune system!), a container of lobster salad (one of the many culinary delights I miss on a daily basis), and lots and lots of drugs.
I am equipped to put on one hell of a cocktail party I am showing promise as a budding mixologist, as long as your drink of choice is Diet Pepsi with a Follistim chaser.