My toe fungal infection continues to be a headache.
Having paid a fortune to buy a box of what promises to cure my horrible disease, I opened it up one night last week to begin the treatment, only to be confronted with a guide booklet of several pages, some disgusting pictures of different types of toes at various stages of fungal infections (seriously, if your toe looked like it was going to fall off your foot should you be reading about it from a box? Should you not be screaming all the way to your hospital???), a box of files, a plastic thing of plastic sticks, some packets of wipes and a bottle of liquid. At 10pm at night I decided to listen to an Oscar Wilde play instead, and left it until I had a clear head, a full stomach, and a medical degree.
Lilsister has continued to be unsupportive, saying it’s fair enough if my toes are falling off but can they please be fixed in time for her upcoming nuptials.
My toes and I are not feeling the love.