Rosalind Lovelace Bits & Pieces
A Rosalind Lovelace series

Bits & Pieces

An invisible illness, explained the only way that fits as a forecast, a bank, an HR department you can't quit, and more.

Short, funny pieces on what fibromyalgia is actually like. Read one, or read all twenty-five.

No. 1

My Body's Terms of Service

The agreement your body makes you accept just by waking up. There is no decline button.

No. 2

If Fibromyalgia Were Weather

Your local forecast, from someone who never needs a window to know what's coming.

No. 3

The Fibromyalgia Translation Dictionary

What "I'm fine" and "maybe next week" actually mean, with the subtitles turned on.

No. 4

What My Pain Would Wear to a Dinner Party

Fatigue, Brain Fog, Stiffness, and Pain arrive uninvited and behave exactly as you'd expect.

No. 5

How to Design a Day When Your Battery Lies to You

Building a day around a gauge you already know is lying, the way you'd weight a picnic against the wind.

No. 6

Fibromyalgia as a Soundtrack

It is not quiet in here. The full track listing of an average day, from low static to rain on the glass.

No. 7

The Emotional Math of Canceling Plans

The hidden ledger of hope, capacity, and guilt you run before every text that says you can't come.

No. 8

The Aesthetics of Rest

Rest staged on purpose, with the good light and the heavy blanket, instead of the collapse you fall into.

No. 9

My Symptoms Have a Group Chat

Four symptoms, one body, and a thread that starts at 4 a.m. and never lets you leave.

No. 10

A Field Guide to Spotting My Good Days in the Wild

Habitat, markings, and how to approach a rare and skittish creature without scaring it off.

No. 11

If Fibromyalgia Were a House

A house with its own ideas: the door that sticks, the lying thermostat, the rooms that lock by noon.

No. 12

The Great Grocery Store Expedition

An expedition log. Base camp is the cart, the summit is aisle seven, the descent is the walk to the car.

No. 13

Things My Couch and I Have Discussed

A relationship that has outlasted some friendships, and the one witness to every kind of day.

No. 14

The HR Department Inside My Body

Annual reviews for a staff you can't fire. Energy misses deadlines; Pain has perfect attendance.

No. 15

My Pain Reviews Local Restaurants

Rated on the chair, the walk from the car, and the noise. The soup is maybe the fourth thing.

No. 16

If My Nervous System Ran a Customer Service Line

On hold with your own body. The music is static, and there is no manager.

No. 17

The Committee That Decides How I Feel Today

They meet overnight, keep no minutes, hear no appeals, and you learn the verdict by standing up.

No. 18

Assembly Instructions for Getting Out of Bed

Congratulations on your purchase of one morning. Some energy required. Energy not included.

No. 19

The Nutrition Label on a Bad Day

Serving size: one day, non-refundable. Ninety percent fog, trace amounts of hope.

No. 20

If Fibromyalgia Were Weather: The Extended Forecast

The longer outlook, with regional systems: the Fog Bank, the Heat Dome, and the Inland Tide.

No. 21

My Body's Maintenance Manual, Written by Someone Who Never Met the Machine

Care instructions for a machine the author has clearly never operated. Yes, it suggests yoga.

No. 22

If My Energy Were a Bank

A bank with no balance display, overdrafts you can't see coming, and a reserve you can never reach.

No. 23

The Tide Tables for My Week

A printed schedule for a body that runs on tides: high windows, low days, a sneaker-wave warning.

No. 24

If Fibromyalgia Were a Coworker

The coworker on every project, who shows up late, books your one good hour, and can't be fired.

No. 25

My Body as a Tiny Coastal Town

Population one. The power fails for no reason, the one road floods, and everything closes early.

Not medical advice. Just one person's reflections on living with fibromyalgia, told a little sideways, by Rosalind Lovelace.