My voice is gone. I've been croaking and whispering and making all sorts of sick animal noises for three days now. Perfect time to write, right? But all I find myself doing is feeling miserable and frustrated when no one understands what I'm saying. 

C accused me of being extra needy today and I pled guilty. My take on the situation? My extra neediness requires extra attention. Would it really make me feel better if someone was doling it out to me? I'd like to find out. 

I'm well aware of how whiney and exhausting I can be when I set my mind to it. And it seems that's exactly what I've chosen to do. Over the past many (too many) years, any illness I contracted, I suffered through alone. I never liked it, but it never seemed like something I could change. Now I know I can. I just need to find a volunteer. Some day, some one is gonna like me enough to want to take care of my sick self.