Not feeling well at all, for myriad reasons. I'll actually post when I'm better.


With pocketfuls of quips and gurgles/Words that fluff like a fistful of gerbils

Tonight's my last night for this round, then I'm done for a bit. With work, I mean. Which will be nice. I really don't like my job. It's better than most jobs I've had, but I still don't like it. At least most of the time I'm not dealing with anybody, which helps a lot. I tend to think of it in two-week chunks, because that's how my schedule goes--in two-week chunks.
Oh! For those of you readers (yes, I use the plural, and I'll explain why in a moment) who know me in person, you'll be pleased to know that I have joined the Klutz Klub. Yes, it is spelled with a "k". Apparently my favourite author, Robin McKinley, has started one in honour of all those terrible klutzes out there, and the only requirement of membership is to post a truly klutzy moment on the Klub web site. So I posted the one about me falling out of bed and nearly breaking my leg because of it. The membership cards are really very pretty, I'd recommend going to her site and checking them out...plus it's fun to read stories of people klutzier than you are.
As for the "readers" (plural) comment, I've finally forced myself to acknowledge that there are multiple people who read this, considering there are something like 28 individual people who read this thing in Israel alone. Yeah, I know. Israel. How cool is that? So, to my readers in Isreal (I hate to use the term Israeli because you could, for all I know, be an ex-pat living there), eight million points each.


Keepers of the flames/Do you hear your names

Sorry about not posting yesterday, but I had to stay up till past noon to see the doctor about the Headache, which is, apparently, merely a Sinus Infection, and therefore antibiotics, the Eighth Wonder of the World, will fix it. So my head still hurts, but nowhere near as badly as it did a couple days ago. Did I mention almost passing out a couple of times from the pain? It was awful. N. is, understandably, concerned, not just about the headache, but about reputed possible side effects from the antibiotics...*snicker*
I've been spending a great deal of time sleeping, mostly because I'm nearing the end of my workweek and therefore can, and also because I've been very tired lately. Both of which are, I think, good reasons to sleep lots.
I'm terribly excited, because I get to see Nate in just over two weeks.
I'm also a bit pissed, because my parents have banded together and told me that I can't go back to the hospital (apparently even if I really, really need it) because they're not willing to pay the bills again. I was soooo close to telling them that, if things progress on their normal course, I won't go back until next Christmas anyway and by then I'll be off their insurance and therefore the bills will be my responsibility anyway. And they're reneging on our original agreement, that I'd get therapy and whatnot, and that they'd pay for it. Now I have to pay for it. Which, all things considered, means I won't be going much anymore, because I can't afford it. I make virtually nothing, and they make a hell of a lot more than I do. I wonder how they'll react when I tell them. Oh, well. It doesn't really bear considering at this point.
I think I'll go back to bed.


The sunlight is fading/The longest shadows have been cast

Yesterday I was feeling...I dunno, I guess the word is nostalgic, so I went back to my very first blog and read some of the entries there. I was very surprised at the quality of the writing in said blog, especially as compared to the quality of the writing now. It's definitely less...interesting. Granted, I had more than a couple friends back then, and I actually had a life so there was more to talk about, but still. I was also happier back then. I think a great deal of that has to do, again, with being surrounded by my friends and being in a place I felt moderately comfortable. Here in Fairhell, I have no friends and feel very much like an outsider, which can't be good for one's mental health. Looking back, I think, too, that getting a single room was a mistake. It became far too easy to isolate myself from everyone. If I had had a single in a dorm where I had friends, that probably would have been different, but...we learn from our mistakes. It's just frustrating that it had to be such a huge mistake on my part.
But I digress. The old blog was a hell of a lot more entertaining than this one is, at least I think so. It's more...lighthearted, and there's a variety of content as opposed to here, which is all, "Today I did (blank) and (blank) and (blank)."
The creepy guy at work isn't talking to me anymore, which is absolutely wonderful, though he is standing funny, puffing his chest out and trying to swagger. Note how I say trying. He's not built for swaggering, plus I doubt he actually knows how. It would be rather humorous, except that I try not to look at him. Ever. Because like I said, he's creepy.


The world ends without a tragedy/Time is melting into history

I'm terribly excited. I get to see Nate in a few weeks, and then I get to see M. a few weeks after that. It's all I can do to not literally jump up and down with glee and excitement and a bit of nervousness. (Jumping up and down would be bad, because it would make the Headache worse)
Funny work story. So one of the clients, B., is more "with it" than most of the people who live there, but she's still...she's still there for a reason. Anyway, a few days ago, she had put a pan on the stove to cook something (which she's not allowed to do without supervision), and then, for some reason, took the pan off the stove and took it outside the apartment, where she then put it down on the floor. The carpeted floor. The synthetic carpeted floor. The aforementioned synthetic carpet promptly melted and started smoking and it set the fire alarms off, so they had to evacuate the building. There's a giant hole in the hallway carpet, and nobody knows just why she put the pan on the floor to begin with. Granted, this is the woman who flushes rubber gloves down the toilet for fun, but still. I'm just glad the carpet is made of synthetic fibers as opposed to natural ones, otherwise we probably would have had a fire on our hands. I say "our," but I wasn't actually there at the time, which is why I think the whole thing is funny. If I was there, and had to evacuate everybody, I doubt I would have gotten as much of a kick out of it.
I have a psychiatrist appointment on Thursday morning. I don't remember the exact time, which is bad, but I can call and find out. I'm kind of looking forward to it, because I like my psychiatrist, but at the same time I'm not, because as of late I haven't been tolerating any new medications very well and she'll probably want to try something else. Grar. I mean, there's always the chance that something will, in fact, work, which would be very nice indeed, but somehow I doubt that'll happen any time soon. Wish me luck, people.


In a field of yellow flowers/Underneath the sun

So once again I got yelled at at work. One of my coworkers, who is the single laziest person I know, was reaming me out for getting my guys up on my own. Keep in mind, she was the one assigned to help me, but she just sat and watched TV while I worked, and then she got mad at me for not finding someone else to help. I was a little bit confused, considering it was her job to help me, but then again, this is her we're talking about. I just shrugged her off and kept working.
I almost passed out this morning, from the Headache. It's getting worse by the hour now. I managed to get an appointment with my doctor on Monday morning, thank God. It's all I can do not to burst into tears, but crying will only make it hurt worse. I know this from experience.
I did something very stupid last night, and I spent most of my time at work bitching myself out for it. It was totally uncalled for, and immature, and hurtful, and just plain wrong. I'm so sorry. I'm just so scared I screwed things up beyond repair...please, God, let things be ok.
Back to work tonight. Yippee. Not.
It's infernally hot here, like 80-something, which also makes me want to cry. Geez, if I let myself go I'd be sobbing for days over inconsequential things, except for the one major screwup.But I did cry about that one, so...yeah.

I will twist the knife/And bleed my aching heart

The past few days have been really hard. As in, when I took my sister to Rochester yesterday, I very nearly kicked her out of the car so I could drive said car into an overpass pylon at 75 mph with no seat belt. It's still a very tempting thought. I told my shrink about it this morning, and he was more understanding than I thought he'd be. Granted, when I explained just why I wanted to do it, it made a lot of sense, even to me. Ever feel like doing something everybody has accused you of either doing or wanting to do, just to prove them right so they'll leave you alone? My parents, having found out about my most recent cutting incident--which revolved around my mom's comment, by the way--I wonder how she'd feel about it, if I told her she's the reason I started cutting again--decided that I, in fact, couldn't take my sister to Rochester because "I wasn't safe to drive her," meaning that I'd put her life at risk. Hello, you stupid prats, I would never put someone else's life in danger. Just my own, because it's not worth as much. I'm tired of them going into a panic every time I try to be honest with them about something. I'd much rather just prove them right, that I'm a freaking hazard to myself, end it all, and be done with it.
God, it's tempting.


With a thousand lies/And a good disguise

So this morning I had to go to work at six, which means I had to be up by five. I wake up, look at my alarm clock, and panic because it says 6:32. So I bolt out of bed and over to my computer, thinking that maybe when I set my alarm I accidentally set the clock, too. Nope. So the first thing that runs through my head is "oh, fuck." The second thing that runs through my head is, "well, I won't make it in to work until 7:30, so I'll just call in. Besides, I have to take the Joj (my sister) over to Mayo Clinic (which is two hours away) this morning, so I'll let them know I have to take my sister to the hospital too." I did just that, I just neglected to tell them precisely when I had to take her to the hospital. I've never called in to work before, so I doubt they'll be too upset. And I saw the schedule last time I was working, and they were fully staffed. So (I hope) it wasn't a big deal. I hope. *cringes in terror that nobody showed up this morning*
So we get there, having been told in no uncertain terms that she absolutely had to be there at 11:30, only to be told upon checking in at the desk that her appoinment wasn't until 1 pm. *headdesk* So we ambled off to get lunch, and in the process discovered a Barnes & Noble. I figured, 'now's as good a time as any to pick up Chalice,' so we wandered around the store checking every possible place, only to not find it anywhere. I therefore did the only responsible thing left to do: I found a salesperson and bullied them into helping me. In their defense, they did try to help me, but none of the B&N's in Rochester bothered to order any copies of Chalice, so I left empty-handed. I wasn't happy at all about that. I'm still inclined to pout, actually.
We went back for the appointment, which took a whole fifteen minutes, and were politely shown the door. So Joj and I hopped in the car and decided to stop at the mall on the way home to see if I could find anything to cheer me up. I couldn't, which was, in itself, rather depressing. But we made it home in time for dinner, and (once again) my blasted headache is raging.Why me?


If you want me/Come and find me

Not a whole lot better from yesterday, though I was able to vent a little bit when I went to pick up my brother from school. He was in a particularly bad mod, and when he directed it at me I told him to either shape up or get out of the car. It's about a two mile walk, so he got real quiet and stared out the window for the rest of the ride home.
CHALICE CAME OUT TODAY! I'm going to order it from Amazon eventually, but I have so many other new books to read...it absolutely kills me. *grumbles* I'm sure I'll survive, but it's not my idea of fun to put off getting a book I've been anxiously awaiting for a YEAR.
So I got hold of this show called "Hex", which is actually rather interesting. I'm enjoying it so far; I've seen the first four episodes (there were only 20 or 21 made) and it's remarkably well-done. It's...well, I suppose it could be considered a British version of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, except there aren't any vampires and there isn't any slaying. So I'm not sure what to compare it to, exactly, or even how to describe it except that it's dark and grim and very well-written. And it's British, did I mention that? Hence my liking it. They even killed off a main character in the very first episode. How do I know she's a main character? It's...complicated. But cool.
It's over seventy degrees outside right now, I feel like I'm going to melt. Yesterday it was a glorious 55 degrees--at the hottest point of the day. I don't know where the nice weather went, but it's miserable outside now. *pouts*
I feel a bit awkward at the moment. Yesterday apparently I was instant messaged by someone I haven't seen in three or four years (I haven't kept track because I never particularly cared), but I didn't get the message till today. I felt a bit bad, so I replied. It's just...well, this particular fellow and I were never exactly friends, more like the smile-and-nod-politely-in-the-person's-general-direction type acquaintances. He's my brother's friend, kind of, though he and my brother were never exactly close, either. It's just all a bit weird, especially since we first met in high school, and I'd much rather not have any connection whatsoever to my high school existence. He wasn't a bad guy, mind you, but...I guess I always categorised him as a "all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing"type.
Oh, well. Can't have everything, now, can I?


This day, this day of wrath/Shall consume the world in ashes

So I don't really know what to say today. I went to work, which was (wonderfully) uneventful. I came home, read a bit, took a nap, received some disappointing news, overreacted to said news, bitched to my sister about said news, ate dinner, read some more, and took a shower. I'm kind of, mostly better now, because (I think) I've found a way around the problem that arose (I hope). I'm not sure yet, because life has a way of sucking ass.
Speaking of sucking, my mom showed me (again) the bill from my hospital stay, and after I told her that yes, I'd seen the original balance, she muttered something about "We don't have the money for this," which makes me wonder why the hell she let me go in the first place. If it's such a problem, mother, then don't offer to drive me there, don't offer to let me live at home while I get my act together so that you can cover my medical bills and don't let me go in the first place. All your muttering and glowering and whingeing about costs does is make me feel even worse about being sick in the first place, which in turn makes me worse. Why can't you understand that? Don't you realise that I already carry shitloads of guilt around every day, solely because I feel that I shouldn't even exist? If it's such a fucking problem you should have just let me die on my bedroom floor seven years ago when you found me that night. Pick one or the other, but don't get all concerned about me and then gripe about the costs afterwards. It doesn't do anybody a lick of good and all it does is make me even more resentful. It's precisely this kind of crap from you that makes me hate talking to you, that makes me want to get away from you and never see you again.

Sorry, guys. That was uncalled for and I know it wasn't something you particularly wanted to see, read, or even know about.


I believe the world is burning to the ground/Oh, well. I guess we're gonna find out

So I started reading The Historian again last night, and I still love it as much this time as I did the last two times I've read it. It's a beautifully crafted story, so well crafted that, unless you're looking for it, you don't notice that you never learn the main character's name. Plus it has vampires, which makes it even better.
It's cold in my room. It's like fifty-something outside, and my room is...colder than that. The rest of my house has central air, but, as I keep repeating, my room does not. So I'm wrapped up in blankets and shivering just a bit. I can't find one of my slippers, so instead of being sensible and putting on extra socks (or something along those lines), I've just jammed both my feet into the slipper I could find. Yes, this is how my mind works.
My team won today, thereby restoring themselves to my good graces after their ignominious defeat last week at the hands of the (shudder) Bears. Granted, they almost lost, and to the Vikings, no less, but they pulled it off in the end, and that's what really matters. Granted, it means that my boss is going to be in a foul mood tomorrow, as she is rather a die-hard Vikings fan, but I think that as long as I don't wander around cheering "Go Colts!" I should be ok. As long as she doesn't remember that the Colts are my team. And I had to explain some of the rules of football to my mom, which was weird, because I never thought I knew enough about football to explain some of the technicalities to someone else, but apparently I do. My dad was in the room at the time, and he was very proud.
My sister bought (actually, my mom bought for my sister) the fifth Artemis Fowl book. I'm tempted to pick it up and read it, because it takes Joj forever and a day to finish a book, but I've got about a dozen books of my own to read, first, so maybe later this week I'll get around to it. We'll see. I've got other things to do, first, though. Like hope and pray I can...well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Or I will, anyway. Maybe. If the world decides to slant things in my favour for once.
My brother S.'s insulin pump stopped working on either Friday or Saturday, (I don't remember which because my days all run together) which was bad, because he's a freaking diabetic and kinda sorta needs insulin to stay alive. He called the doctor and they told him they'd see him on Monday for it, which is stupid because like I just said, he's a diabetic and it needed to be fixed immediately. I'm not sure what he did, because I don't think he carries around spare vials of the stuff just in case his pump breaks. He'll cope, I know, because he's good at coping (far better than I am, in any case; but really that shouldn't be surprising because I can barely cope with normal stuff and so even your standard, everyday run-of-the-mill crisis tends to send me into histrionics) but I do have to admit I'm a bit curious to see if he managed to do something creative about it. He's a creative one, my brother. Ask me about his Cuba travel journal, or his paper on the ancient Phoenicians. He makes me look like I don't have a creative bone in my body. Which I very well may not, but that's totally beside the point.


I have faltered, I have stumbled/I have found my feet again

So I was reading this evening, and I thought that maybe an hour, at most two, had passed, and when I finally put my book down I found out I'd been reading for over four hours...It's a little bit embarassing, especially because it happens to me all the time. Ok, not all the time, but a lot.The world could literally come to a spectacular end, and I wouldn't notice.
So I used to take Ambien to help me sleep, but my doctor had me stop because I had started to see motion trails all the time, and he thought it was somehow connected. Well, it's been over two years now, and I'm still seeing motion trails. I'm not entirely sure what's going on there, but it's low on my priority list at the moment. I've got other things to deal with, like this thrice-damned headache. I'd condemn it more than three times, but there's no word for four times, at least not that I'm aware of.
Oh, and a British girl I know from high school helped me out with the Aga question; apparently it's a type of old-fashioned stove.
It's frustrating, you know? I was doing better, I really was, but...M., don't be mad, but I owe you $3. (At least it's 3 and not thirty, right?) And before you ask why I did it, I don't know. I just...had to. Granted, I always feel like I have to, but sometimes it's just too much to say no to.I guess I should consider myself fortunate that that particular situation doesn't arise very often.
So I read Twilight a while ago, and it wasn't as terrible as I was expecting, but it wasn't as good as I'd hoped. Granted, I'm fussy and nitpicky; but it was very well-written. It's just...it was very obviously written for people who read at the 8th-grade level, and that's...irritating. I like my books to offer a challenge, or to at least...not be easy. But if you're looking for a quick, easy, mostly engaging read, I'd say go for it. If you're looking for something a little more difficult and not that quick, I've got boatloads to recommend. All you have to do is ask.


I'm taking my time/To plan your demise

I love Voltaire. Not the writer (well, yes, I love Voltaire the writer; I think Candide was absolutely brilliant), I mean the singer. His music is so entrancingly morbid. I owe my old roommate T. a great deal for introducing me to his music. Granted, some of his stuff is a bit...out there, like his 'Cannibal Buffet' song, but for the most part it's just great stuff. I also get a big kick out of the Arrogant Worms, because, I mean, hey, who couldn't love the Last Saskatchewan Pirate?
It's my weekend off, which is very nice, because I was growing more and more exhausted with every passing hour and I needed a break. I'm relieved I finally got one. I plan on sleeping in and doing laundry and other productive things. Or maybe I'll just stay in bed and read, which is a very appealing option.
Anybody out there know what an Aga is? I keep coming across references to it in a British blog that I read, and I have no idea what it is...the best option I've found is a Swedish refrigerator, and somehow that doesn't quite seem to make sense. I have, however, learned that the Brits don't go in much for central heating, and since it's rather a Northern country I feel a bit bad for them. I can empathise with their plight, seeing as how my bedroom here in Minnesota doesn't have heating either, which sucks big time.
I shaved my legs today, but I forgot I had a new razor and pressed down rather too hard a couple times so I sliced up my knee a bit...stupid thing. I hate shaving my legs. A lot.
Everybody who reads this, all two of you, needs to check out YouTube for the song "I Google You". It's hilarious and slightly creepy. The lyrics (and melody) were written by Neil Gaiman, and it's sung by the chick from The Dresden Dolls, which is another good yet slightly disturbing band. What is it with me and things that are (at least) slightly disturbing? You know what? Never mind. I don't think I want to know, and I doubt you really do, either.


I'm still a rock star/I've got my rock moves

Sorry about missing yesterday, but I couldn't wake up for the life of me. Oh, well. Sleep is more important than blogging. (GASP! Such heresy!)
I've been alone each morning the past 3 times I've worked, which is okay but it's very tiring. Getting four wheelchair-bound guys up, showered, dressed, and fed in 3 hours is energy-consuming.
I got sick again today, I think I ate something that disagreed with me. Or something. I feel better now, though, except for that thrice-damned headache.
I had the news playing in the background this morning at work, and I had completely forgotten that it was the whole 9-11 anniversary. But there it was, all over the news. Which was fine, because it was a tragedy (though I firmly believe that if they're going to commemorate it every year, they should commemorate the other acts of domestic terrorism that have occured, too, like the Oklahoma City bombing back in the 90's) that ought not be repeated--ANYWHERE--but then they started reading off the names of everyone who died. Which is boring. And very, very time consuming. Forgive me for not being more sympathetic, but I spent 3 and a half years in Peru while a very large terrorist group was very, very active and I routinely fell asleep to the sounds of bombs going off. While I was there the Ecuadorian embassy was burned to the ground by said rebel group. School was cancelled at least once a month because the roads were filled with rubble from nearby buildings having been bombed into oblivion. When I lived in Venezuela there were riots in the streets all the time. To be honest, terrorism doesn't shock me anymore because I grew up with it. So I don't think very highly of the war on terror, because they're not doing enough.
ANYway. I'm done with work until Monday, which is nice. I get to sleep at night, which will be a nice change from sleeping during the day.
OH! There was a frost warning a few nights ago, which was freaking awesome. I was so happy, even though it didn't get quite cold enough to actually frost over. I love the cold. The colder the better. I'm still hoping to move to Alaska one day.
My dad is getting sick now, I think he has what my mom had. She's finally better, but Dad is miserable. At least he works from home, so it's not too bad that he's too sick to leave the house. Hopefully I don't get sick too, because that would really suck.


The world is not enough/But it is such a perfect place to start

I did nothing today except walk the dogs, and it was great. Granted, I have to go in to work tonight (poo on a stick), but at least it wasn't this morning.
I stayed up waaaaaaay too late yesterday, because I never went to bed after I got home from work yesterday morning. So in that case, "way too late" is anything past 10 am.
A. finally realised, or found out, or something, that Nate (not N. anymore, he's earned a full name here) and I are dating. If you could call it dating, but anyway. He asked me if it was for real or if we were just messing with people, and I realised that, yes, Nate and I are both fully capable of doing something like that and getting a huge kick out of it. But no, it's for real. And so A. jumped on the bandwagon by saying, "oh, good. You two will work well together." I'm just relieved he didn't say "oh finally" like everybody else has.
I had to take my mom to the doctor's office yesterday, because she's been pretty sick lately. We get there, wait two hours (even though there's only one other person in the waiting room), and then the doctor tells Mom she's just got allergies. My mom doesn't have allergies. Meanwhile, while she's in with the doctor, I'm out in the waiting room with this weird fat older guy who sat there breathing stertorously through his mouth and staring at me. Not my idea of fun.
And I've still got the headache.


When I start to crumble/You know how to keep me smiling

So I know it's been two days, but in my defense I've been working like a dog and therefore have been sleeping in what little spare time I've had. I haven't actually been to bed yet, but I don't have to get up tomorrow morning at all, so I can stay up longer and not have to worry about oversleeping.
I've continued to lose weight, and so now I'm back down to a size eight. It's nice, in a way, except now all my pants (except one pair) are too big, in some cases WAY too big. And the one pair that does fit brings its own problems. Don't ask. And one of my coworkers saw me on Sunday morning, and she was all, "how are you getting so thin? What's your secret, I need to lose weight!" Keep in mind, people, she's a size zero. I was...yeah. It's frustrating. Why is it that the thinner a girl is, the more she wants to lose weight?
So there's a creepy guy at work who asked me out forever ago, and he's twice my age. I brought that up, and his only response was, "It's fine, you're over 18." Which creeped me out even more, and I found out last night he's really into feet, which is, like, uber-creepy. I've decided I'm just going to talk about Nate in front of him, all the time. If that doesn't work, I'll probably call Animal Control and have them raid his house, where he's keeping 8 cats. City ordinances state you can't have more than 3 unless you're a licensed breeder. And then I'll let him know it was me. If that doesn't get him to leave me alone, nothing will.
I got kissed at work this morning, it was cute. I've been trying to get this particular client to "give me a smooch" for a few weeks now, but he wouldn't. He kisses everybody else, though, so I thought, what the hell, why not? So I've been wheedling a bit, and he thinks it's just the funniest thing ever and he loves the attention he gets from all the female staff. And this morning, sure enough, he kissed me right on the cheek, and he even wiped the syrup off his face beforehand.
And the morning wasn't too bad, really. I didn't have to listen to Merle Haggard at all, which was a wonderful change, even though I still had to listen to Willie Nelson, which, admittedly, isn't a whole lot better.
My books came in the mail! I'm so excited. Yay books! Sorry, I'm too excited about my books arriving to say more.


I'm damaged at best/Like you've already figured out

I made my mom cry awhile ago. I was walking by, and she wanted to know if I was all right. The conversation went something like this:
Mom: Are you okay?
Me: Not really.
Mom: What's wrong?
Me: The usual, I guess.
Mom: Do you feel guilty about something, or what? (A/N: no idea where that question came from)
Me (looking surprised): Of course. I always feel guilty.
Mom (also looking surprised): About what?
Me: That I exist.

Her jaw dropped a little, and I turned around and walked away. As I left I could hear her start to cry. All I could think, though, was Good God, woman. If you haven't figured that out by now, there's no talking to you. I know, I know, I'm a heartless bitch. Get over it.

Work was awful last night. Every month or two my bosses do a walk-through of the building, inspecting the general cleanliness and whatnot. Well, I do a pretty good job maintaining a high level of clean, but I was off for a week...and the two people who worked during my week off, didn't. Work, I mean. They had quite obviously done NOTHING whatsoever. So instead of spending my night leisurely going from room to room, idly maintaining said high level of clean, I was on my (metaphorical) hands and knees scrubbing everything in sight. Worst part? I didn't finish. It will take at least one more night, if not two, to fix the mess they made. So I was really angry to start with. Then I found out that this morning we were going to be two staff short--again. So I had to get all four of my guys up and out the door by myself--again. So I just turned my frustrated energy into the whole morning routine, and I got everybody done 15 minutes earlier than usual--that's 'usual' with two people, not alone. So, go me.
And somewhere in all of that my headache finally went away, though I'm afraid it might come back.


Don't try to fix me/I'm not broken

So apparently I have readers all over Europe, which is cool. I have this happy little people-counter program on my blog and it tells me how many people read this each day, and (roughly) where those people live. Not in a stalkery way, just in a, "oh, I have 4 readers in (insert country here) and 12 in (insert state here)." It's rather nifty.
I saw my doc today for like 5 minutes and she told me to STOP TAKING THE REMERON. The whole mania-inducement thing is very very bad. So now, hopefully, the nightmares and headaches will stop, too. Yes, I had two more nightmares last night, both horrifying in very different ways. I'm starting to fear falling asleep. My session with my therapist, on the other hand, was really good. I finally figured out exactly why I tend to bail out on people, which means that now I (and my therapist) can start working on not doing it. Hooray for some good news, right?
I bought even more books today. I've been in town for weeks now, without going anywhere except work and the clinic, so it was good to just get out and drive. A couple books I've been meaning to pick up were available in hardcover at paperback prices, so I picked those up, plus the two I was meaning to pick up in the first place. Plus a couple for my mom, but she's reimbursing me for those, so technically I didn't spend anywhere near the amount the receipt says I spent. *sighs* Stupid mania. One of my personal manic symptoms is that I start spending money like it's going out of style, which is bad, because I need money for other things, like bills. It should fade in, at most, a week's time. I hope.
Oh! More good news. Usually, after I do my 4 overnights in a row (starting tonight, coincidentally enough), I have 2 morning shifts and then another overnight. However, one of the other overnight people is taking some vacation time, and they needed someone to fill the two overnights that correspond with my morning shifts. My boss asked me if I could fill one of those, and in return she'd take me off BOTH morning shifts. Of course I agreed, since even though I'm losing a shift I'm actually spending 3 more hours at work and therefore making more money, AND I'm getting a day off. I only hope she remembers to take me off the schedule this time. Last time I agreed to work a different shift, I was promised a certain day off and didn't get it. Oh, well. Here's hoping.

p.s. Word of the (whatever, since I doubt I'll remember to do it daily): recidivist


A disease of the mind/It can control you

So now my headache has gone from being just behind my eyes to being my whole freaking head, and it somehow hurts worse, if that was possible. Nothing's making it go away, and it's starting to really suck. Plus I'm having these horrific nightmares, and they're only getting worse. I'm seeing my doctor (again!) tomorrow, and maybe this whole mess will get fixed.
G. is back in the hospital, poor guy. He's barely able to move, his eyes don't focus, he's not even strong enough to speak. Again. On a brighter note, though, the jackass who let him wallow in his own filth two weeks ago finally got fired. YAY! I was thrilled when I heard, even though now we're running short-staffed. To be honest, I'd much rather run short than deal with him...ever again.
I ordered a few more books today, ones that disappeared in the Baer black hole. Some of them, anyway. Replacing all of them will cost lots more than I can afford at one time. Plus I still have to replace the clothes that joined the books on their little walkabout, and it makes me sad because some of those clothes I really liked. *shrugs* Oh, well. Story of my life, right?


I think that I should save my soul and/I should crawl back in my hole

So you know how I was griping about the hot weather? Well, I'm not griping anymore because it rained for a good chunk of today and now the temp is down in the sixties. Even better, it's not expected to break 70 until next Wednesday, YAY! I'll have to throw another blanket on my bed tonight, but I'm more than fine with that. I prefer the whole bundled-up feeling to the too-many-layers feeling. After all, you can always add more, but there's a limit to how much you can remove.
I'm starting to worry a bit about the amazing M., who I am hoping to visit next month. (Wow, next month already?) I haven't heard from her in several days now, which is odd, because she usually manages to get online in some way or another. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I love you and I'm praying for you.
Apparently Neil Gaiman won't be signing books at the book tour event, which is a bit of a bummer, but since he usually ends up signing books for hours when he does public appearances I can't say as I blame him. His site, however, goes on to say that there will be autographed copies available for purchase at the aforementioned events, so it's all good, right? I'm excited just to hear him read, I've seen recordings and thought he did wonderfully.
I finally figured out how to use uTorrent. Go me, I'm not a total clod.
I started hyperventilating at dinner tonight. I'm not entirely sure why, since (for me, at least) it's always preceeded by laughter and there wasn't anything particularly funny being discussed. I was about due, though, since it's usually at least once a year and I haven't made an idiot of myself that way in over two years now. Not since camping with the Uprising boys. Fun fimes. At least this time I didn't almost pass out before someone found me a bag. I've actually still got the bag, it's sitting on the floor right next to my feet, on the off chance I need it. Or if my feet may need it. After all, you never can tell.


Yes I'll tell you just the thing/You need to be the next big thing

So woo-hoo, I'm actually doing the two post thing today. Hooray for me.
Let's see if I can figure this whole link thing out, because I found this absolutely brilliant post by some random weird person through a link from a blog I read on a regular (meaning daily) basis, and I thought I'd share it with both of you. Click here please. Woot! It worked, go me. The best part is, I can totally see my dogs doing something like this.
I had to go out and buy a new keyboard, because the old one decided to be stupid and insert a whole bunch of random (to me, at least) letters and numbers whenever I tried to type. For example, I would type in "s" and get "sxythe". One might argue that "sxythe" is, in face, a word in some language, but then I would feel compelled to point out that my blog, at least, is an English-only blog. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say an American-only blog, since we all know the British do things differently.
I feel a headache coming on. It's probably the damn heat. It's been so nice, too, not getting above 80 and now it's significantly above 80 and that makes me sad because I don't like heat. I love the cold; to me, the colder it is, the better. Stupid heat wave. It will probably last through the entire freaking month, too, which makes me even sadder because it's September and September means autumn, not summer. It should be getting colder. Please please please let it get cold again.

I don't know why you care/I don't know what's out there

I'm going to try for two entries today, since there wasn't really anything of interest posted yesterday.
It's odd. I'm so used to people trying to change who I am, the essential me-ness of myself, that finally finding someone who likes me as I am is very...strange. It's a wonderful, kind of giddy feeling, but it's still strange. I don't feel compelled to behave in a different way, to please a person, or persons, anymore. I can just be myself, and be appreciated for that. I wonder how long it will take me to get used to it. I wonder if I ever will. I wonder if I even want to get used to it. You know, I don't think I do. Want to get used to it, I mean.
I've been sleeping for most of the past three days, waiting for the meds to get out of my system. I'm pretty sure they're gone now (I hope to hell they're gone now), but I'm tempted to try them at a half-dose, to see if it works less...potently.
I was stupid and scheduled my next blood test for the morning after I get off work, which means I have to take all my meds BEFORE I go to work, which means I'll probably be sleepy as all get-out. Oh, well, more caffeine, then, I suppose.
I'm starting to read some of the more obscure books on my shelf, since I haven't been to a bookstore in awhile and haven't gotten my next shipment in yet. I'm currently reading Ahab's Wife, which is a lot more interesting than I originally thought it would be. Next will be A Yellow Raft in Blue Water, with either Abundance or The City of Falling Angels after that. I need to put the rest of my books on the shelf, they're currently scattered all over my room, on the floor, under piles of stuff. Speaking of books. I loaned my sister one of my Terry Pratchetts while she was visiting her friend, and I got it back looking a bit...chewed. I asked what happened, and she told me that she had spilled water all over it. It's still perfectly readable, but I'm a little bit miffed because it's my book. I can mangle my books all I want, because they're mine, but other people hurting my books is almost...blasphemous. That's not the word I want, but I can't seem to grasp the particular one I'm looking for. Oh, well. It happens.