So there I was, so proud of myself for performing basic hygiene and making an effort to not appear like a hag…And I went out in public with my shorts on backwards. OOPS. What’s a girl to do? Find a bathroom, go back home…Nope. This girl just turned them inside out behind the wheel in wide open. Why? Because I bloody well can and really don’t care who likes it. Nothing to see here but some zebra striped undies, perverts, move along…(See??? Getting the appointment and trip to town over with and getting home safely instead of the car stranding me brought back my piss and vinegar!)
I’ve started rocking the ‘that’s not appropriate for your age!” hairstyle of pig tails to keep the sweaty hair off my neck and I’ve gotten several compliments. So fuck you, 45 year olds can rock pig tails! Oddly, it’s men who have complimented. Women giggle and tell me I’m way too old to wear my hair this way. (Though a dye job would be an improvement, I admit.)
(And yes, I have a Tardis poster on my bedroom door…EX…TERM…INATE…DALEKS ROCK!)
So…some little toddler boy in the doctor office waiting room for whatever reason decided I looked like a good playmate and kept rolling a ball to me. I played along, of course, even though I am wary of doing so lest the adults think it’s some weird pedo thing. Idk, kids have always liked me and I think kids are a pretty good judge of character sometimes, they sense a kindred spirit. Because, hey, deep down, I’m just a kid who loves soda pop, Pop Rocks, and Pinky And The Brain.
The appointment with Dr. H was a disappointment because she refused to raise my Cymbalta dose, erring on the side of caution and ‘well, it’s only been 3 weeks at this dose, it can take six weeks to fully kick in, your med sensitivity makes me reluctant to do anything knee jerk that could harm you.” Pfft. I was in a depression so long, I guess knee jerk is my go to response but I admit, she has a very valid point. She advised me to make sure with my kid out of school that I take plenty of time for myself and get breaks so I don’t get as overwhelmed but she thinks I am doing a great job. (I didn’t mention the inside out shorts, we all have brain fade, right? RIGHT???) All in all, while she wasn’t on board with my (not necessarily right) wishes…she has the right idea, caution.
Bad thing is, when I went to schedule for six weeks…they took my name and number and said they’d call me when they decide who to assign me to. Which must mean they hired someone new and that is terrifying. I was resigned to going back to doc nurse, which could still happen, but then again, human nature being spiteful as can, since I switched from her she might not want me back. Whatever. Though the next time I am expected to get the lithium level bloodwork done and I hate that shit. Needles and blood aren’t my big thing, it’s going into the damn hospital that nearly killed me with misdiagnosis. Okay, it was 18 years ago but still…I just hate going there. Had they not basically held my newborn hostage, I’d have been out of that place 2 hours after giving birth, I dislike it that much. And well, being honest, I just don’t like hospitals, period. But you tend to hold a grudge against one that resulted in you getting brain damage because you were misdiagnosed and denied proper treatment.
The stress came when driving in 91 degree heat and the damn ‘low coolant’ light kept flashing on the car and the gauge kept rising. I was petrified and my dad checked the coolant last night, it’s full so that means…another malfunctioning gauge, ffs. I almost wish I hated this car then I could be all vindictive about its flaws but I really love Blanca. I may have lusty-drool issues for Mustangs and Camaros, especially the 60’s classics, but my Lumina suits me beautifully. It’s the newest car I’ve ever owned, which I suppose isn’t saying much, as it’s a 2001 and only cost $450. YES, you can get a car that cheap that actually runs in the midwest, one word-auction. Still, working gauges would be wondermous but I will cope. And my Xanax dose was down, oh, well.
I made it home after the necessary stops, including paying rent and am just enjoying me time. Spook’s little friend wanted to play but we were gone and now they’re in Peoria getting the dad’s other son for summer visit so, woohoo, I may have a break from running free daycare. Though the half brother is 15, can’t see him much wanting to hang out with a 5 year old. Today, though, I am getting a break.
EXCEPT, the landlord came knocking an hour after I paid JUne rent in person. His little ledger book indicated I was $725 in arrears. Um NO. I owe $325 toward deposit, but all rent is current. We finally got it straightened out. I paid March rent on February 28th so he credited it to February but we didn’t move in until the 1rst of March,the missing security deposit is what is confusing him most. (Hey, guys, fundraiser is still open here, unless you’re donating to that ridiculous minister with three airplanes who now wants his flock to raise fifty plus million to buy another jet cos flying commercial means sitting next to demons-and I’m the crazy, greedy one????) Hopefully since the landlord wrote it all down we are squared now.
Ugh, who knew paying rent early could result in such a clusterfuck.
Now I have about an hour before they bring Spook home so I am going to mindlessly chill out. Because if she finds out her little friend may be gone for awhile she is going to start rioting and tantruming and I will need my bloody rest.
Thing is, when she isn’t being an emotional terrorist…the kid has crazy creativity that just cracks me up. Example: a zombie virus broke out in her dollhouse the other day so she made Giraffe his own biohazard suit from a baggie. This kid is fucking brilliant! And I pray not in a Theodora Bundy way.
My little unicorn.
Again…donate if you can cos we’re not asking for a jet, we’re fine traveling with demons…or just share because you care.