Feeling Crappy? Pass It Along!

This is a shit post drenched in self pity and simmering rage. Please ignore.

• Parent in hospital, going on week 5. Serious mental and physical issues. Getting better but situation seems to require constant supervision. Still can't get all doctors, etc, coordinated. Usual fuckery of healthcare compounded by being in Backwater Shitsville, FL.
• Fuck all insurance companies. To death. With a baseball bat embedded with glass and nails. The state of health "care" in this country is disgusting. 
• I hate Florida. Especially when it rains.
• It's raining.
• Apartment I'm staying at has ongoing issues, including a/c and plumbing. Had to shut off our own water main yesterday, after a spring bubbled to life behind the tub wall. Standing water throughout kitchen, bathroom, and under the carpet. 
• Landlord is scumbag, so we'll see if this gets fixed. Incredibly problematic, bc the leak has been going on for a while and we are talking about ripping up carpets and tearing up walls. None of which this car salesman motherfucker will be willing to do.
• I can't really do anything about any of it, bc it's not my place anyway.
• Parent's home troubles continue, with leaky roof, major plumbing issues, and the standard electrical outages because omg!rain. Who would have expected rain? In Florida, of all all places?
• Relative with terminal diagnosis is foundering around out there. Can't be reached, doesn't want to be reached, and no one has the money to help him out.
• Am broke. Have no job.No prospects. Tons of debt. Medical bills that have got me  on some collection lists now. And they keep coming. Got a bill for $25K the other week. Guess they waited to bill me until after my insurance had ended.
• Several sibs/relatives work for company that has always been shady. Now they are withholding pay and cancelling insurance and shit. Money is tight from loaning out to deadbeats like me. Everyone's job in peril.
• So many problems seem to relate to money. How did we all fuck it up so badly?
• Feel that I don't have any friends to turn to, even for a night out of distraction. Everybody is busy with their own shit and nobody has the time or the energy to take on something as hopeless as this. Those close by are absent--I don't even have any backup places to stay, really. Where have all these friendships gone? I felt that i put a lot of time and energy into their upkeep, but maybe i fucked that up too. Or maybe it's just like it always is: when your usefulness and relevance has expired, you become disposable. 
• I was denied bowling yesterday. I was late to the lanes bc i had to stop and counsel someone and then had to help clean up water disaster in apt. No bueno.
• menstrual cycle--despite medical debt, still not close to be solved, much less treated. b/c it's totally okay to have chronic pain if it's because of girl stuff
• Going to go wash face in hospital bathroom. At least here there is running water.
• Everyone is sad and tired. Apparently, no one has anything left to give. I think I'm about tapped out, myself. And if i wasn't already worthless enough, I lose all value when I lose the ability to deal with other people's shit.
• I'm fucking exhausted. We are all exhausted. There's gotta be a break in this action.
• i missed this season of walking dead. and because the ppl i do know don't have normal cable setups, i can't catch up via normal methods. the networks are such greedy little bitches.
• blah blah wah wah poorlittlemecakes

Headed West

It's been a bit since I've posted.

Life As We Know It took a pause and I took a trip. It was the kind of trip that turns out to be a Life As You Knew It--because things change so much in such a short time.

After 8.5 months back with my family, tending to immediate and extended family business, I'm headed home.

At mile 312 my sadness got the best of me, and I was beset by a terrible longing and great deal of regret.

I was alright again until someone texted me a picture of one of the cats, saying goodnight. That provoked a rather sudden and emotional response.

My heart hurts.

You'd think, after all this time, I'd be used to sadness. But I hate it so. No matter how often I feel it, it never gets easier.

So I'll do what I always do: run fast and far. And maybe one day I'll learn to move fast enough to leave my sorrows behind.

At least that's what I'll tell myself tonight.

Doctor Visits: Bitterness and Apathy Ahoy

Here's how it went:

Spent 4 hours at clinic a few weeks ago for endometriosis appt. They couldn't do anything but write me an Rx for ibuprofen. And try to refer me out.

Got a call yesterday morning that I had an appointment with a specialist today at 9 am. That was fun to arrange at work.

Saw doctor today. No exam. No prescriptions. His basic points were:

• Based on notes, this is the most severe case he's dealt with. Never seen it that bad.
• Best short term rec is to get more surgery and then go into chemically induced early menopause for a while. He conceded there were some slight problems with this plan. And that it wasn't a long term solution.
• My long term options are to wait for menopause or get a total hysterectomy.
• If I want to have kids I should do it quickly, since I'm getting so old. (For those unaware, a common belief in the medical community is that the only reason A Woman wouldn't want all her reproductive organs removed is because she wants to have kids. No other reason to have that stuff). He even offered to refer me to a fertility clinic.
• Treating my chronic pain with pain medication carries a risk of dependency. (Hormone replacement increases certain cancer risks, puts me at high high risk for osteoporisis, and a total hyst has a shit ton of side effects.) But I really need to be aware that pain meds could be bad for me. Also, did he mention that pain meds were bad? P.S. some people have problems with pain medications. Edit: we'd rather remove more organs than have you take some pills for several days out of the month. Okay, that last one is just my bitterness seeping through.
• He concluded with, "I'm not doing anything for you today. I'm just trying to educate you about your choices and your fertility. I'm going to try and refer you to pain specialist. 

I really hate going to the doctor's office, but I fucking despise going when it's a conversation we could have had on the fucking phone. I missed work for this shit, got all stressed out, blah blah driving around town and bullshitcakes.

All this crap is exhausting. I start all of these conversations with "Here's what's worked for me, but I am open to suggestions." I wish the suggestions had evolved over the decades beyond "Let us rip out your ovaries."

Damn! We're In A Tight Spot

After moving across country and getting laid off, I've had several years now of difficulty trying to get work. I can count on one hand the number of interviews I've landed. Even when I've aimed low, just can't seem to work it out.

Naturally, not having a regular income combined with significant medical costs has left me quite destitute. I've burned through my sad little 401k, etc.

So, you would think accidentally getting a semi-decent job would be a boon, a benefit, a balm.

Instead it has been a misery.

I've been struggling mightily with this. As you can see, even on a day off my brain has me up at 5:30 a.m., my thoughts skittering after each other in an unpleasant and endless loop.

Why has it been so hard? I'm not sure I can accurately say at this point. I've spent a sickening amount of time trying to figure out why I'm so constantly offended, frustrated, and stymied by the people and the environment. It's so pervasive and so overwhelming that I've spent a great deal of time wondering if perhaps the problem lies with me. Maybe I've just gotten too old and grumpy. Or maybe, after all the shit life has thrown at me, I've finally just lost my ability to maintain. Shit, I've even wondered if maybe I never had my shit together in the first place and now it's just showing.


I'd like to point out that prior to this I've had a lot of success in the work place. It's been noted by multiple people over the years that I seem to have a knack for getting along with "difficult" people and making hard situations work. I compartmentalize pretty well, don't take things personally, and focus on end goals.

So what's going on? Have I just lost all my skills? Is this job so different and stressful that it's a uniquely terrible experience? Is this just another byproduct of having no thyroid and the constant life changes that accompany that?

Honestly, I can only get so far in my estimations before it all becomes too depressing to contemplate.

The people I'm working for offend me. From my perspective, they are not terrible people, but they aren't very good managers. There's an appalling dearth of basic social skills and awareness coupled with an embarassing level of self involvement. There is constant intense demand for efficiency and perfection, but no consistency in what is requested and no tools provided to achieve those requests. In fact, a sure way to get something wrong is do exactly as you've been instructed. And instructed is a strong word there, it's less instruction and more "the thing I told you about briefly but can't be arsed to actually define what I want so I'll just toss it out at you before I disappear behind closed doors and you are Not Allowed to ask me questions about it so get it done so I can reject it later on with no feedback other than: it's wrong."

All of which might be tolerable, if the office itself wasn't designed for failure. Or if not failure, then the sure maintenance of a sub standard environment in which no improvements are possible and nothing can really get better. Do your job correctly and use these tools and procedures, just ignore all the bits that don't make sense or are blatantly incorrect. Use these systems, but we get grumpy if you "waste time" by actually attempting the meager training.

Perhaps it's just my weird personal hang up, but when my ability to actually do my job correctly is compromised or impeded, I get really cranky and distressed. I'm not familiar with the work, don't know what I'm doing, don't have a model or guide, and often can't even use basic logic because these people are illogical.

So, of course, all of that is just my perspective. And I've spent a great deal of time trying to think, strategize, and rationalize myself out of the feelings my perception has created. I'm very disappointed in myself. Why can't I rise above the petty problems of a workplace? Why can't I employ some zen acceptance? Why am I letting this situation bother me? Why can't I make this work?

I haven't had a steady job in years. I should be glad to be making any money. I should be hanging in there to try and get health insurance. I should be grateful that I can take these paychecks and devote them all to debt payment. Right? I should be doing everything in my power to make sure I keep this job, right? I should suck it up and get over whatever this thing is. I should be practical.

I consistently try to understand the workings of things, to get to the core of feelings, actions, motivations. But I am beginning to wonder: at what point should one cease searching for explanations and simply react to the situation? Is there a point where the healthy response becomes "I don't have to know why it makes me miserable, I just need to know that it makes me miserable."

Even thinking that way feels like a cop out, a shirking of intellectual and emotional duty. But I am forced to consider this perspective when the misery of a situation has started to color everything. Perhaps I will never be smart or strong enough to figure out how to deal with this situation. Maybe that means I should just admit defeat.

Marooned On The Couch

This is not good.

Unexpectedly, I have today off. There is an event I want to attend later this evening. It would also be very, very smart to do any of the following: walk over to small shopping center and search for a few items, go to grocery store, shine shoes, trim nails, sort and file, and probably lots of other things I don't even remember right now.

Upcoming TMI warning.

The thing is, I'm hella crampy and bloated. But my period still hasn't started. It's just lingering, painful and foreboding, on the edge of existing. And I'm downing NSAIDS like I own stock in them. Did I mention I'm uncomfortable to the point of pain? (in addition to actual pain).

And there's nobody in the house so I'm sitting on the couch with a heating pad. And even though I really should go to that get together later tonight, it would be good for me, I'm just not feeling like doing anyfuckingthing right now.

*sigh*

i'm my own worst enemey

dear uterus: YUNO act right?

I'm Trying Real Hard To Be The Shepherd

I'm not talking about how I really feel because there's nothing good to say. People aren't interested in how you feel when how you feel is nothing but negativity. They don't need that in their lives.

(if you doubt this, try listing off some of your darker thoughts to somebody and feel them close up like a flower, shrinking away from you)

I have bills I can't pay.

There are aspects of this job that actually will cost me money. Example: I don't get any benefits until I make it through three months. That's around Feb 2015. Meanwhile, having a job invalidates my current Health Care status (not that I've seen ANY benefits from that, but whatever). In order to get intermediary coverage I have to reapply. Last time it only took them around 8 months to process my application. See where this goes?

Added fun: still have a heap of expenses from my supposed "covered" period. Supposedly I can file to have these somewhat reimbursed. How? Well, that's a good question. Let me pull out one of the 10 or so acceptance/rejection letters and try that old contact number again that goes to the voicemail that is full.

Just an example. Just my life.

I take deep breaths and tell myself to just take it easy, that I'm blowing things out of perspective.

I'm exhausted, truly exhausted. I feel old and stupid. I can't tell if I'm making mistakes because I'm tired, because I'm old and slow, or because I'm completely stressed out. Guess it doesn't really matter when the results are the same.

I have new people in my life that are dancing on my last nerve, laughing in my face, and begging for me to tell them to Fuck Right Off. Overreaction? I keep telling myself that.

But what if the truth is that I'm just too old and tired to deal with this kind of bullshit?

But thoughts like that are self indulgent. So I'll suck it up, go somewhere and have somebody put their pansy ass little bad moods on me, try to stay unaffected, and maybe it won't all be so bad soon.

I try so hard to be mindful, to be objective, to see the other side, to be grateful.

But I'm tired, Ringo. I'm real tired.

Here's A Moment

I've been out all day and just got home. There is an offer of employment sitting in my inbox. Haven't read it yet.

I bet the Germans have a word for the apprehension of disappointment coupled with the resignation of acceptance.

I don't even want to look at the damn thing. But it will ease my mind to some degree.

In any event, looks like I have to go shopping. I hate shopping for pants. And shirts.

It's been a while since I had to look presentable.

Edit:

This is the part where I sound ungrateful.

Well, the offer is around ~18% less than I was making when I moved here (my initial salary here was actually a little shy of me being able to completely support myself). After only 120 days of employment, I am eligible for unspecified health benefits and the ability to accrue up to 5 whole days a year in sick leave. The hourly rate is $4.04 more than I was making on my last job (for a friend) in Panama City.

Yesterday I met a former lawyer (they're fucking everywhere) who moved to SoCal six weeks ago. He has already booked two jobs, attends classes, and goes on auditions almost daily.

fuck my stupid life

fuck it fuck it fuck it

Unexpected Phone Interview

There is nothing like being loopy and totally unprepared for a phone interview. Cheese and rice, that was stressful.

And he was a lawyer. Normally, I'd be ready to go. But I am not myself today and having some congestion medication loopiness. Took stuff this morning because, I foolishly thought, "I got nothing going on today. Don't even have to drive anywhere."

Ha ha. Handy J needs a ride to work after all. Lawyer calls to grill me. Yikes.

Also unexpected: landing an interview from this phone call. I have to go buy some kinda suit for my fat ass. Yuck.

While this is good news, in a sense, it's mostly filling me with an unspecified dread. This is a real job, not something I can just screw off and do. I will have to learn stuff.

I obvs need to do this, because financial reasons. Furthermore, I should probably give up the ghost on any of my dreams and start getting real about my future.

I've had all this time to make something happen and I haven't. Doesn't that mean it will never happen? Maybe I'm not hungry enough. Maybe I didn't try hard enough? I am not sure what to do even now, so I think that's probably a given. Maybe I just didn't have what it takes to really go for it.

That Was Worth It

The tile is brought to you by Sarcasm.

Finally made it to the "mental health" facility that took a month to get into.

This was strictly an "intake" appointment--no doctor consultation, no prescription refills.

After waiting 45 minutes due to server problems (why do server problems delay a face to face meeting? I don't know), I met with two different girls. The first was all paperwork. The second was more paperwork and a few questions.

It's always lovely to be asked to open up about your personal details to someone with a clipboard. It really makes you feel heard, recognized.

After about 5 minutes of questions I was told that I didn't qualify for any of their counseling programs. Apparently, I am too mentally healthy to make the grade. Interesting.

I was then told that since I didn't qualify for counseling, that I couldn't get any medication from that service. Better and better.

So, I don't get to see a counselor, I don't get to see a doctor, and I'm SOL on medication refills.

Guess it's a good thing I went ahead and weaned myself off a few weeks back, sensing that a gap in availability was forthcoming.

In truth, I've been dicked over so many times while I was paying for services that I'm used to it. It's not a crushing blow to have "free" services turn out to be a wash.

I promise to do many huge happy fun time posts as soon as something positive happens. Until then, feel free to keep ignoring these posts.

Ending With A Hint Of Relief

And so this long day draws to a close, with the pain tamped down to a manageable level sometime after midnight.

It's funny because chronic pain can really wear you out, but sometimes you are so relieved to feel better that you can't pass out. It's like your body is all "Oh boy, we don't feel like total shite right now! Paaaaarty!"

Or something. Not sure what a spleen says to a large intestine. Shout out to Handy J and Bef, who both helped me out today. Special shout out to HJ, who continues to grow as a person, much to the benefit of himself and those around him.

KIDS: DON'T TAKE DRUG TRANSUBSTANTION INTO YOUR OWN HANDS.

Warning: this shit is graphic. This is a Russian junkie who decided to shoot up some pills. That's right, he liquified some pills and injected. This is bad for many reasons, not the least of which is the caustic effect acetaminophen and NSAIDs have on blood vessels.

So he ended up at the hosptial with some gangrene. This video is not safe for life, liberty, or the pursuit of a sound sleep. There is some removal here. It's not particularly bloody, it's just, well. . .

You can see bone. Shin bone. It's like a halloween costume.

For some freaky shit click here. I don't advise clicking there. This is what happens when you decide that since you take drugs, you know chemistry/biology/anything.

Here's to tomorrow and better days.

That Really Hurt My Feelings

Chitauri energy blast wound corresponds to my pain, somewhat.

But I'll get over it.

I guess, despite my best attempts, I ask for too much.

Maybe that's at the core of whatever is wrong with me: I want too much and therefore will always be disappointed?

Or maybe not.

And the days went by
Like paper in the wind
Everything changed
Then changed again

I wonder if anybody could hear the Wildflowers album and not like it. Is that possible? I know some people say they don't care for Tom Petty, but isn't Wildflowers just a trump record? I can't really be objective, I guess, since I love Tom Petty to itty bitty pieces.

I'm in an immense amount of pain right now and we are hitting one of those transcendent moments--this kinda pain can make you just as goofy as any med. It probably says something profoundly disturbing about my psyche that these are times I feel compelled to record and communicate. When I am probably so least able. But I'm willing to cut myself the slack of acknowledging desperatizing circusmstances. I just made that word up. I don't care.

Wow, I've totally lost my train of thought with this. Because Blogger just quit working for about 20 minutes.

WTF? Even the Interwebz is against me!! Shock!! Horror!! AaaaIiiiiEeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

It's a couple of degrees below Melting today, so there's that. We are grateful. Praise jebus.

Here's something awesome I saw today:

I can't even win at Angry Birds. How dafuc does this happen? I must be the leftover DNA. It's probably good I'm not reproducing.

California In September

Next time I get a bright idea about SoCal after summer, someone please remind me that September is SoCal's hottest month.

And no one in this area has central A/C. Fancy schmancy houses don't have A/C. (But they do have central heat, wtf?)

It's not the worst, but it damn sure is affecting my mood.

On that note, I advise everyone to stay away from me for a bit. The heat makes me mean.

It's Moments Like These That Make Me Question The Reality of My Own Morality.

Because I can't decide if this is either the Worst Job Offer Ever or the Best Job Offer Ever:

Extras in Pop Music Video*

$50/day - male, female, all ethnicity and height/weight, 20s to 70s, model type, ordinary type, most shocking appearance, tattoo/piercing look etc...Must have an outgoing personality, provocative and MUST BE OK with kissing scenes! Kissing same and/or opposite sex.

 I mean, I think my confusion can only be interpretated a couple of ways:

1. Maybe I'm being delusional and imagining only pretty people there when the reality is stank breaf, cold sores, and Attack!Tongues.
2. Maybe I'm being delusional and they would never let in gross people, poor hygeine, etc, and that I'd be lucky if they picked me.
3. Maybe I need to get back into therapy to deal with these freakish esteem issues.
4. Maybe I need to get back into therapy because for a moment there I thought the freakish esteem issues were the problem. Obviously, the problem is that I have this problem in the first place. And publicly share it.

 EDIT:

Option 5. I totally need to go back to therapy because I just re-read the ad, saw the "provocative" requirement, and thought, "Oh, I guess I wouldn't make it into this shoot." Then I thought about what a fucked up thought that was. Then I realized I needed to stop typing.

EDIT II: I promise, Mom, it's not a porno.

(EW*): Untitled (Viscera Bard)

last time I saw him he seemed so sad,

sad down to the bone.

And maybe I’d be more mad about the emotional effluvia that kind of Sad produces,

(it gets all over you

alloveryou

and eats your heart

replacing it with shadow)

but I’m a might busy trying to stop the soup,

my heart,

from sloshing out of my ribs.

how can i tell a man, no matter his faults,

his cruelties,

his mistakes,

that the Sadness he feels isn’t breaking his heart all the same?

Aware and recalcitrant or oblivious and angry,

how can i possibly say

what lattice work of shards has soaked down through his skin?

In that kind of Sadness, aren’t we all saying the same thing: How the fuck did this happen? This is not what I want.

So, no, i really have no one else to blame

for letting the truth slip in.

Ignorance or activation,

it’s this inaction that’s a sin.

Wow. Just . . . Wow.

Somebody just said something so hypocritical, accusatory, and inaccurate to me at the wrong place, the wrong time and in company that I'm having an adrenalin rush trying to calm down.

Because it was the wrong place, wrong time, with company, I just got up and left the room. I haven't slammed any doors, given any dirty looks, no real reaction. I think being stunned by the Wrongness and totally offended helped me make it out of the room with no fanfare.

I've got to get out of this place. I can't let people who don't or won't bother to understand me continue to have an effect on me. I can't keep taking shit from people that I'm not allowed to confront. It's just no good. It's not healthy for me.

I may be a piece of shit, worthless, unbearable human being, but that doesn't mean you get to shit all over me. You don't get to blindside me with your constant projection and transference of your neuroses.

I have the right not to be attacked. I have the right not to have to deal with all your fucked up shit. I have the right to defend myself. And apparently I have the duty, as well, since nobody else is going to do it.

This is an inherently unfair dynamic, but I suppose I ultimately have no one to blame but myself, as I perpetuate these roles. And it is within my power, theoretically, to stop this whole cycle. I could, hypothetically, choose not to be furious and offended right now.

So I sit here, taking slow breaths, trying to let go of all the yucky stuff, plotting my escape, plotting my freedom, hoping for a break, and wishing I could just be left alone. You just have to convince yourself that It Doesn't Matter. A simple concept, but often a difficult execution.

One day I will be Someplace that isn't Angry or Hurt or Boxed In. I know that. I just have to get there. I hate these feelings. So very much.

Overstaying Your Welcome

I'm having a Steve Perry solo artist moment:

WELL I SHOULDA BEEN GONE
KNOWING HOW I MADE YA FEEL
YEAH I SHOULDA BEEN GONE
WHY ARE MY PANTS SO TIGHT?????

Or something like that.

I should have been out of this burg months ago. Months. At least. I could sketch a little tale about promises made and goals envisioned, but in the end it doesn't really matter. Everything has a shelf life and it's inconsiderate and unwise to test people's generosity. Even when they mean well, people can only give so much. And some of us can only take so much.

It's hard not having your own space. No matter how long you manage to sit still somewhere, it can still feel like Too Soon when you, inevitably, have to shove over. Everything feels negotiated, temporary, and doomed to end badly. You're a guest in your own life. It doth sucketh, verily.

I have no one to blame but myself. I'm not quite sure how it's been so many decades and I have jack shit to show for it. All around me, people who should be getting to relax and rake in the cash are unemployed and struggling. Some people are doing okay and that gives me hope. But if I'm being honest, I'm always waiting for the bottom to fall out.

For the record, because it probably doesn't seem like it, I hate having to ask anyone for anything. I hate having to be reliant on the kindness of others. I hate being a "problem" or a "concern." I hate not being able to help my friends and family. I hate being a drain. I hate having nothing but bad news. I hate not being independent. It eats away at some deep, vital part of me.

This is a less than stellar way to start the day. Now to go off to work. Yay.

For a person who has no life, I'm pretty worn out, y'all.

Is It Something In The Air?

I think I'm in a really weird mood right now.

This is one of those "I've heard this song a million times but today it struck a nerve" moments. It may seem trite, but I know this person and I know this feeling and it hurts in a horrible way. Aches. Twinges. Grieving for something you have yet to lose.

Music is so powerful. You have to be careful how much you let it influence you.

Step one, you say, We need to talk
He walks, you say, Sit down, it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through

Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all, you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence

Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed

He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

I know better than to be so melancholy. Fortunately, "Sledgehammer" just came on. So I'm sure I'll be bouncing about it a bit. I'm such a twit. Peter Gabriel is so wonderfully direct about his dirtiness. :)

This is the new stuff. . . We go dancing in

And Eff You Very Much

Well, I just got off the phone with the clinic that Rx'ed me some meds for chronic pain. You know, the ones that worked, but 3 out of 5 patches were so defective I couldn't use them.

Fun!

I've been calling (and visiting) this clinic for four weeks. Four weeks of phone calls, messages, answering questions, answering the same questions, and repeating personal details of my life story to whoever I happened to get on the phone.

I know it's been four weeks because last time I called it was because I was in intense pain because of my period. That's right, I originally called to get refills when my stuff malfunctioned for the severe pain I was in A Month Ago.

And now that feeling is coming back, as it always does and probably always will.

And today--this phone call--somebody FINALLY told me, "Oh, we can't refill those prescriptions."

Dude. Seriously? And this was info that couldn't be mentioned BEFORE I SPENT AN ENTIRE MONTH PLAYING PHONE AND OFFICE TAG WITH YOU MOTHERFUCKERS????????

It's really easy. A patient asks a yes/no question, you provide one of the two answers. No. That's all you had to say. No.

I just....what the...I can't even deal with this shit. What?

Well, at least I have one patch left, so I have 3 days of mitigated pain. This month.

Goddamn I'm tired.

And After That Brief Nap I Awoke To A Car Insurance Cancellation Notice

Ha.

Hahahaha.

I have no one to blame but myself. I was paying insurance in 6 month chunks back when I had a little money saved up. My brain obviously has not registered the switchover and I sailed right past an email reminder.

Well, I mean, marked the email reminder for payment when I had some money. Foolish, so foolish.

Of course, they did try to call me. With an automated caller. At the phone number that doesn't have a phone right now.

Hahaha. I C WUT U DID THAR universe. So droll.

All hail satan and credit cards--i am reinstated with a few clicks.

This has just been the cherry topping to my steaming shit sundae of today. And now it's too late to go bowling.

Including myself.

If my life had a face, I would punch it.

This concludes our broadcast for today. Jeezy creezy.

You Know That Feeling?

When you wish somebody liked you enough that they just wanted to call you up and spend an evening hanging out, grabbing dinner, and talking to you? And they were keen about it and sought you out?

You know, the feeling that you are such a neat and interesting person that somebody just really wants to spend time with you, to hear what you think?

*sigh*

Yeah, that feeling.