You and I normally get along quite well. You make me feel informed. Educated. In the loop. We've had this relationship for a couple months now, and I really thought I knew what to expect from you.
And then you go and screw it all up.
I know what you'd say, Chart. (If you could talk, that is.) You'd say "Hey, don't blame me. I'm just a manifestation of the data you enter in to my columns." But I do blame you, Chart. And right now, I might even hate you a little bit.
You're ugly. I hate your up-and-down, mountain-range lines. I hate your lack of confirmed O. I hate your blue dots and your stupid blue connecting lines. I hate your little colored squares that I use to keep track of symptoms. Because even though I've had all the right symptoms, you still refuse to give me the one thing I love about you - crosshairs. You're kind of a turd this cycle, Chart.
Deep down, I know that it's me, not you. But until you start behaving normally, like a good, sane Chart, I'm afraid that our relationship is going to be a bit strained. You've left me with no other choice than to look upon you with utter disdain. (Literally and metaphorically.) I'll forgive you in time, I'm sure...but I won't forget this. I'm watching you, Chart. Like a hawk.
