Happy New Year

I am at Eviljob, taking a break. I'll get off later tonight and have pizza with Meg, then I have to make her think it's her idea to go out somewhere nice tomorrow, just the two of us. I am broke, and she's not much better off (financially, 2010 has kicked our collective asses), but I *want* to go do something, damn it.

Gah....more later.


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So they say it's Christmas time.

My personal favourite part of Christmas so far is the zombie apocalypse nightmares where Mom, Meg, my brother and I are in someone's house in another city and the power is still on, then Meg and Brat leave to get food and leave me with Mom, and as I woke up this morning, I was shopping with Mummers in another city where the outbreak hadn't hit yet and Meg and Brat still hadn't shown back up.

For some reason, this dream has really upset me. And I don't know where anyone else was. Pfft. Like, merry Christmas.

I am getting really heavily depressed over Mom's death and my brother's deployment.

I suck at keeping in contact with anyone anymore. It isn't just you, blog. My plan is simply to have a good day today and tomorrow. And to feed the cats at Eviljob. They haven't been liking the weather, but they are okay.

I wrote something last night at work, then forgot to post it 'cos This Guy cannot seem to understand that I want to be left alone. so what I wrote is below:

At the moment, which is eight-ish p.m., I am at work. This is unfair for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that I just yesterday finished a conference proposal that appears to be a watershed in my career (as if anyone but myself gave a damn). This is the first of many which will not be undersigned by She Who Hath No Name, and I am not overly upset by this. I guess that makes me a free agent, if not yet an actual professional.

I have excelled for years at being an actual unprofessional, however.

Lawd, I am funny. It’s why you love me.

Butsoanyway.

So I (we, but I am not discussing this part at this time) got it in, and so that’s good. This morning, I had what I hope is my last physician’s appointment of 2010, only to find that I have a UTI that I cannot seem to shake. So after two rounds of Bactrim, I am on Cipro. Sigh.

And there is someone here who has their radio on xmas carols just loud enough for me to hear only certain parts of each song; one of the songs being played frequently – from this distance – has this theremin-like, repetitive whistling sound…sort of like xmas carols for aliens, or something. It’s kind of cool. I was, in fact, just sitting here thinking about how cool it would be in a dystopian-type way, and was halfway thinking about writing a story about it when I remembered that I haven’t any free time these days. Bleurgh.

Oh, and before anyone decides to get offended at ‘xmas’, please, please, please go look at Paul Brians’ errors page. Thank you.

Butsoanyway.

So I am all crampy and crappy, and will have to go in a bit, but in the meantime…

Ummm…in the meantime, I’m here. Brill.

I am still not finished with holiday shopping, but I really don’t give a damn; I am so depressed still that I cannot see straight. I am forcing Meg to go with me tomorrow and Saturday so I won’t be alone, but it will not be the same without Mummers. And I do not feel like being with my father. I will admit this here, and nowhere else. I know he is, as we all are, not long for this world, and my stepmother was diagnosed with MS this year also (I may have failed to mention that here – she went blind in one eye, and was diagnosed. Apparently she has had previous episodes and not noticed, from what her doctor said. Now the good news of this is that, because of her age, it is highly likely that she will be largely asymptomatic for the remainder of her life now that she is taking appropriate medication. The bad news is that, well, she has MS.), but…I just do not feel like it, especially if he is going to go off on a tirade about how terrible Mummers is, which is what he did the time before the last time that I visited him. So I am a crappy daughter. Meh.

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I just don't feel like finishing. Here's hoping we all have a good couple of days.

<3

Just wanted to share.

Some things are better

Well, i asked to be repayed and i'm told that i will be. Tomorrow. We shall see.

In Other News, Sabra is batshit still. She posted some crap in (bad) Russian...she is losing her crackers.

Of all the things i have applied for, is it wrong for me to have been reflecting today that teaching in UT wouldn't be so bad?

Sigh. Time for sleep. I have been put on a low dose of Ativan and start a new blood pressure pill in the morning, even though my diastolic was in the low 90's. Doc says that even if that's stress (and i believe it is), it's too high. So i was moved to Metoprolol, and I cried.  Mummers took Metoprolol. That's when Doc wrote the prescription for Ativan at night. So i cried more...Mom took Ativan in hospital and was allergic to it (seniors and children tend to exhibit paradoxical reactions to some drugs -- instead of calming them, it agitates them, or instead of wiring them up, it calms them down), though I didn't know Mom was allergic to it (okay, exhibiting a paradoxical reaction; 'allergic' is easier) when they were giving it to her at first. We didn't know until one Bright Cookie MICU nurse thought that 2mg Ativan was too much for Mom and gave her 0.05mg -- Mom was up all night, upset. The 2mg was agitating her as well, but it was also knocking her mostly out.  On the nurse's recommendation, we requested it be pulled and listed as an allergy.

In case you ever need to know, a good go-to for seniors (or anyone exhibiting a paradoxical reaction) is Haldol. I guess I don't need this information any more.

Doc says at this rate, i'm not getting off the blood pressure meds any time soon.

Flustrated!

Yes, that's right; I am appropriating the non-word 'flustrated' to describe the feeling one has when a grammar nazi (or nazis) cannot get past the your/you're or they're/their kind of mistakes under any circumstances.

I mean, do you honestly mean to tell me that if your little child hand-wrote a card for you which said 'YOUR THE BEST MOM (or Dad)', that you would sit the kid down and talk to them about their grammar? What if it were a Special Ed kid? What if it were just some random app-writing fucknut on Facebook?

One of my really dear friends sent a hug to me on Facebook that contained a your/you're swap. It's not been two hours, and already I have two comments (one of them is a cousin ::hangs head::) trying to show off how 'smart' they are by pointing out the error.

How. Fucking. Rude.

I hate pedants. I make fun of mistakes, but I don't have the urge to invariably piss on *everyone's* parade just to show how so-called intelligent I am. Especially right now -- with both of them fully aware my life is Hell -- when I actually *am* grateful that ANYONE would take two minutes to do something nice for me...it just makes me rage.

It makes me FLUSTRATED. So there. Nyah. I have just proclaimed 'flustrated' to be a real word.

I would have gone off on them on my wall, but I have, like, dignity.

Butsoanyway.

I had an SRP this morning, and I am *still* in pain. I have a ton to write, and am dreading my brother leaving.

Yes, that's right: I'm still scared.
If I didn't have Karen, I don't know what I would do; I haven't felt like talking much, but she lost both parents when she was in her early twenties (both to cancer), and knows how cast-adrift I am feeling.

Lord...I am falling asleep. Hugs, love, and hopefully no flustration. <3



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It's Xmas...for Hitler... o/~

I am okay. Still depressed, nervous, and scared, but okay. My brother leaves for his deployment weekend after next, and I am really wondering what else could possibly happen to make this the worst Holiday Season EVER.

I am sure They'll think of something.

I am only treading water in the classes I am teaching; I am behind in making MOAR changes to my writing. I feel as if my job applications have turned into hail mary passes. Most of my friends are tired of my depression, so I have been staying quiet.

I still miss Mom and think about her every day. I still cry every day. I got invited to go see Tron Legacy weekend after next, and turned it down because I am cutting back so far in my budget and because that is the weekend that my brother leaves, and I don't think I am going to feel like doing anything, anyway. As far as I know, after I see him this weekend, I may never see him -- alive -- again. I will enter into six months of constant terror that something has happened, and I just haven't heard yet. And the way I expect things to go, it won't be for just six months.

And I know this has become tedious to hear...it has become tedious to LIVE. And I don't know how to make it all stop.

I don't know why anyone would want to be still reading this, but I guess I apologise in advance. I must have been a very bad person in a previous life. ::smirk::

And I *am* sorry about being depressing; I hate it, too.

In Other News, the cats are fine (Sweetie, my newfound sleep-buddy, is right beside me), and at Eviljob, Butler II is trying hard to learn to meow at me. He's a sweet cat. I wish I could take him.

Sabra is literally insane; I have been avoiding her like the plague. This person she's decided is The One is a former *student* of hers (this is a very bad area, ethically; it's generally a good idea to not get involved in that way with students), and it turns out that he is *engaged*. So...I am totally avoiding her. She is talking crazy, and...I just cannot deal right now.

This Guy is being sort of okay, but largely no support whatsoever. I tried to talk to him tonight about my brother, and he kept changing the subject back to him. I am tired of it. I almost told him to just quit phoning me, but I held off because I don't want to make a decision out of anger or hurt, and it seems like that is all I feel anymore.

I have to change things. I have to change EVERYTHING. I just don't know how to yet. And I hate feeling like this.




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Running away

I had to get out of the house for an hour, so I am up at this Mom & Pop seafood place that is cheap-but-annoying. I'm meeting Harry and then it's back to writing. When I finish this one project, I'm starting on a personal project while I continue to submit applications and crap. The xmas carols are going in here, and I honestly think I like this place cos it reminds me of a place I used to go sometimes when I was up North. Really similar decor, layout, etc...

Ok...gotta go.

Grr.

So last night was another one of those nights where I don't sleep a wink, obsessing over everything from my finances to Mummers to my brother. And yes, I took pills; they stopped working at least a month ago. I won't take sleeping pills, but I did take clonazepam, and I at least stopped crying. This is how it goes every night.

Did I tell you that I'd been put on blood pressure meds? Well, when Mom was being murdered, I was (I know; shocking). Well, on Sunday, as I was trying to get stuff written, my lip swelled up like a collagen injection nightmare. I could breathe okay, but took 50mg Benadryl just in case. I tried to keep working, but my lip was getting so big that I was looking like Bubba, from Forrest Gump. So I raced to a walk-in clinic run by the hospital that murdered my mother (they have a monopoly here), and was diagnosed with an ACE inhibitor allergy and told to discontinue lisinopril immediately. So I did, and...::drum roll::...my blood pressure is normal. Still. Word to the wise, don't just jump on blood pressure meds after one or two readings, especially if you have major stress in your life. That shit can kill you if you 1) don't need it or 2) are allergic. Just sayin'.

Now I am debating what to do...writing, nap, or...well, those are really my only choices. I have today off from Eviljob, so I'm leaning towards a nap first. I am really having trouble regulating my sleep, but I won't take sleeping pills, ever. They don't help. And they almost killed Mom in the rehab centre.

I have just one small portion to finish on this one project, but it always seems insurmountable at that stage, you know? I'm hoping I can muster up some of that despair that keeps me up at night after an hour of sleep. And I don't write past about one a.m.; I do try to gear down and all, but I turn off the lights and no matter how tired I am, my brain kicks on. I honestly get on my iPod and do stuff just to not feel so alone. Maybe I'll start taking melatonin.

Okay...work or sleep time, followed by sleep or work time. Sigh.

And I haven't even told you about what needless stress This Guy is being. On Sunday, as I'm freaking out over deadlines and my lip, his car died cos he didn't change the timing belt. To me, that counts as a personal oops. Learn better next time. But he phones me as if I am supposed to do anything about it, so I just played Stupid Girl and didn't help him fix it -- no tow, nothing. He's a big boy, older than me, and needs to clean up his own messes, and I refuse to get sucked into his drama. No one rescues me, for fuck's sake.

Anyway, so I am a shitty person. And I don't care.





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Welcome December...

I think I won't be okay until I get a job. You know -- the Career one, not the 212 other things I do. And yeah, I am a little freaked out. And I'm not over Mom, and I am terrified that I am about to lose my brother. So yeah, I am not all Christmassy yet. :-/

I'm depressed and scared, and it's hard to keep up this front of holding it together when I'm not. Meg isn't much better emotionally, nor is my brother, but they aren't in the mess I am in financially, either. After the spur-of-the moment death expenses, none of us are planning any cruises in the near future (the three of us had to divide the cost because Mom's Master Plan involved not ever dying, so she had nothing planned), but after paying to get my car in shape earlier this year so that I could drive her two hours to chemotherapy, the funeral killed me. And I'm not asking for money, so don't. This is where I talk honestly, so there. Things aren't good.

It may be September-ish before I am employed...it will probably be then, *if* then. And I'm scared. And before Mom went in hospital the first time -- in August -- I did something really stupid; I lent someone money for a new car battery ($100, not counting the 'core charge' of $12 that I never got back either), and then I lent them tuition money ($1180) that I was assured I would get back in September. Well, when I asked at the beginning of November how that 'paying me back' thing was going, I was assured I'd get my $1,000. Somehow what *I* am considering a $1,300 debt became a $1,000 one that I still don't have back. I hate it when people act this way, and were Mom alive (and were I to tell her about it), she would be disgusted with me and probably quote 'neither a borrower, nor a lender be'. Several times. So I'm a goose, true. Never again, though. Never, ever again.

It sucks so badly that good people with honest hearts end up getting fucked. It seems at times that the only way to survive is to cut everyone away and focus only on saving oneself. I am not worried about any kind of karmic repercussions, as Karma never seems to get around to kicking the asses of my foes. Sigh.

I was told on Monday that I look like Death, and that's not the first time someone's told me that. It's not meant in a bad way, they meant Gaiman's personification of Death (on my To Read list, if ever time allows, and I'll try to attach 'the' drawing if I can here, it's one drawing in particular; if someone Nagled me, this'd be close) but...if I were she, I would certainly spend this weekend righting some wrongs. No, really...I would. Actually, I would be a lot more relaxed if I were Death. I'd not have taken Mom, and I'd know my cats and brother will be okay, too. Meg as well, for that matter. And then I would go after Evildoers and try to help people. Being Death would rock...at least the way *I* would do it. I've no clue if Gaiman's Death is half as cool as me. Probably not; when on my game, I can be pretty freaking cool. :->

Hugs and love this season. If you are reading this, I <3 you. Do good things.









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