A Very Lucky Girl

I found a paper that I wrote last fall about Addison's Disease for my Modern Monsters writing class. I have a hard time describing or admitting to this autoimmune disorder. It's hard to see myself as less than perfect and not be able to change it. And it's especially difficult to let others see this weakness, as it's not easily understood.  I panted up the stairs, dragging the last of the suitcases, and wiping the Texas heat from my brow with “riff ram bah zoo, give ‘em hell TCU” emblazoned across my purple shirt. It was August 17, 2010, and this was move-in day. I had finally graduated that May and my parents were sending me off into the real world at Texas Christian University. I could not wait to start this independent portion of my life and lounged across my newly lofted bed in anticipation of my roommate’s arrival, rushing a sorority, and the first week of classes.  Fast-forward two months. I was a habitually messy roommate, initiated Alpha Delta Pi member, and...

I have not been in the mood for immature shenanigans this week. I think lack of sleep is catching up with me and breeding irritability. Unfortunately, the kids are up and at 'em within minutes of my arrival at 7:45 AM every morning. I creep into the house and shut the front door as quickly as possible, removing my shoes, and whispering to talk to their mother, hoping to catch a few more childless seconds. Twice this week she assured me that they had stayed up late and would more than likely sleep in. Both times one or the other kid woke up within 3 minutes of being issued this statement.  On one of these mornings Brother quickly realized that I wasn't going to be engaging in any sort of activity before 9 AM (I cuddle up on their giant bean bag as soon as I arrive and definitely plan on investing in something of the sort when I move out of the dorms) and resigned himself to some Wii time. He tried to play a Hot Wheels racing game and the disc wouldn't read. He brought it ...