Tell me why they call it chemotherapy when there's nothing therapeutic about it. I'm feeling fatigued and am going to take a nap, but wanted to write before I go into la la land.

It was an emotionally exhausting week at home. Have I told you? I cannot fucking remember.

The chemo brain has gotten so bad that when I walked into acupuncture today, I forgot my therapist's name when I signed in. I mean, come on. That's just embarrassing. It seems I'm experiencing all the emotional and physical side-effects this week. I'll spare you the details, but I'm not feeling very happy right now.

I am, however, starting a new biz venture, which my fashionista readers will come to appreciate (hopefully). I should have that up later tonight or tomorrow.

And there are still rats! I was on the balcony last night when it was still freaking light out and one of the little fuckers was scurrying along the top of the wall on the floor beneath me.

Anyway, here are some fun pics from today's session. I asked Chad, the therapist, to snap me while I was being treated. He was a trooper.