African jungle, big city street, the only real difference is in the people you meet...

I am working to get something out by, ideally, tomorrow morning.  Ack.  I have been working all day on it, save for my morning exercise class and this evening's trivia with Harry.  We ended up fighting, as usual.  I think he enjoys it.  He had to borrow some money from me; I think he enjoys that, too.  :-\  I lost to the table behind us, which ticks me off a bit, 'cos they were scamming answers off us.  I used to like playing at sites where we all played as a big team, but anymore that is but a distant memory.  Sigh.  I know the table behind me was cheating off me (I usually give Harry at least 80% of the answers...of the ones that *are* given, that is; some he and I both shrug and guess, and a few he knows that I do not, mostly about history or automotive stuff).  After the first two rounds, I was second, so I signalled to Harry, and the next round we did not give any answers out loud, and they dropped.  I actually do not give a damn in the Grand Scheme of Things, I just like to know what kind of people I am playing against, so we went back to giving answers the round after.  Feh; not playing as a team, I do this mostly as a distraction; we cannot rank nationally. 

Butsoanyway.

Romeo *likes* it when I give him sub-cutaneous fluids; he sits by me and purrs and lets me pet him!  This is working out, I think.  Rhett is doing ok, though I think that he is bored.  I need to think of something he can do that does not involve too much hyper-like moving (contrary to how he seems, Rhett actually *does* play pretty vigorously, so I do not think I could leave him with anything unattended, or he will be turning backflips in the cage as he tries to kill it). 

It's That Time again, and I am very crampy.  Unfortunately, tonight has been bad enough that I have taken 600mg Ibuprofen, and waited almost two hours...still crampy.  Then I took two of the generic Evil Uterus Pills I get at CVS, the kind with Pamabrom in them, 'cos those are the only ones that help at all, and waited for about an hour...still crampy, just as bad as before.  Sigh.  So I took a Cataflam about thirty minutes ago, and I am about to take some Excedrin; it looks like it is going to be one of those cycles.  Bwaah.  If I did not have so damned much to get done and could afford to lie down and sleep, I would go take a Tramadol and one of the...gah; I forget the name! It's like Valium -- in the diazepine family -- and Harry's girl friend is addicted to them (like for real, as in she needs a rehab program or something, and if she did not have a legit source for them -- NOT ME -- she would be one of those people you read about in the paper that gets arrested for trying to use fake IDs at different doctors, and stuff...she is pathetic).  My new gyn put me on them 'cos she said that I am way too nervous and tense, plus she thinks that I am depressed (I Just Said No to antidepressants though, Nancy; any depression I have I can work out on my own), and she says that whatever this crap is will be beneficial for my core/pelvic area, 'cos I stay tense physically, even when she says to relax.  So fine.  Whatever.  I cashed the prescription, only I cannot take them regularly at all; they put me right...the fuck...to...sleep.  Srsly; I take one, and it is like a countdown starts -- within fifteen minutes, I will be in a coma, usually about two minutes after I start thinking that getting laid might be a good idea.  Now *that* is relaxed.  Yeah.

Needless to say, I do not have the *time* to be that relaxed; I have (I think) sixty, and have taken I think four and a half.  But I am definitely keeping them for plane flights.  Fuck, yeah.  They kick the ass of Xanax, for real.  Which is one more drug Harry's girl friend is addicted to; she is completely nuts.  I am so, so, SO grateful that I do not have an addictive personality, at least pill-wise.  Sheesh.  I hide the stuff I have like that, 'cos if she knew I had it, she might not break into my home, but she damn well would pillage my medicine cabinet, or try to talk Harry into doing it...which I know he never would, but the *point* is...all that shite is Quite Very Hidden in my home. 

Everyone always tells me that I should have become a doctor (as in physician, not as in the PhD researcher to which I currently toil...endlessly), and although I usually brush that idea off (blecch; I would either panic myself to death, or beat a non-compliant patient to death...either way, someone would die).  But I have to admit, I *do* miss the days of being able to tap into the overflow that my father stored at home.  I wonder what it would take for a drug rep to put me on his or her route...hmmm... 

Well, it would save me from having to take time out to go get a prescription. 

Sigh.

Still crampy.


After this one thing that is sort of like a theory chapter in an instructional manual, I have to make up what is basically the rest of the manual.  That part will not be too bad (I hope), but this part is sucking, mainly because it is all just putting shit together that I have been compiling for the past three months, and I have already read all of it, I know what it says, and I am *tired* of dealing with it.  I have research ADD; once I get *my* answers, I like to move on.  Argh.  It is probably because I am forced to linger and write about it all the time.  At least this gives me a chance to kinda watch movies; right now, I am watching Rumour Has It, which is, well...moderately cute pablum about a quasi-nauseating topic, even though there is something about Mena Suvari that I just do not like.  Maybe she reminds me of someone and I do not realise it, or maybe I just did not like her character in Beauty Shop *that* much, or something.  Earlier, before trivia, I was writing and watching Message In A Bottle, which sucked ass.  Why in the fuck would anyone waste the ink to pen that?  I have enough drama and problems of my own to voluntarily soak up some fictional burdens, especially needlessly neurotic and melodramatic ones (what kind of batshit babe falls in love with someone who is clearly pining away for someone else, dead or not?  Just write 'PLEASE REJECT ME' on your forehead with a Sharpie; it's easier).  If What'shisname had lived, it would have been just another Barely Tolerable Chick Flick With Nice Scenery.  Oh.  Spoiler warning.  Sorry. 

Butsoanyway.  I have to get back to work.  Pfft. 

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