Happy Holiday Season...FROM JAIL!

Christ.

It took longer to get him out cos the fucking jail had to go on lock-down (I'm going to 'splain more later), so I spent the WHOLE FUCKING NIGHT hanging out in jail.  Me.  ME.  

On the good side, ShaQuaNeeda The Guard in Central Booking and I are now pals.  

Kill me now.  

What was Harry arrested for?  You won't believe it.  It was a Contempt of Court charge for back-owed child support.  Yeah, for his 22 year old daughter.  Oh, wait -- it gets better:  Want to know how much?  $129.00.  Seriously.  One hundred and twenty-nine dollars.  I do not understand how that turns into a thousand, but...whatever.  And don't tell me 'no', because I *saw* the paperwork when I had to go pick up his girlfriend to get him out.  $129.00 = $1,000.00.  I gave him the receipt and I guess in theory if the order gets vacated, I get my money back (?).  I really have no clue.  I try to not hang out in JAIL.  

Jesus.

I have to teach all day today, and I am exhausted, so of course, I'm giving a test.

Oh, shut up; it'll be a nice one.

BWAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!

hello dad, i'm in jail!

you know the old was not was song?

i like it here...it's nice!

christ.

i just paid 1k to spring harry's retarded ass. seriously. out of JAIL.
now i have to wait four to six hours for him to be processed and get
to leave.

now on to the 'and hilarity ensues' part.

--UPDATE--

Oh, you've heard it:

The Coming Tuxedo Cat Uprising

moar funny pictures

Too funny -- I have not checked this email in a week, so I suck. I know. I am okay, and so is everyone else, though this semester is promising to be psychotic. :-D In the fun way, at least. I really should not be posting right now, but woth'hell. I am getting a lot more individualised attention than I have acclimated myself to in the past couple years.

So that's weird.

Now,the down-side of all this fun, fun, fun is that every day it is like I have a new project, and these past two weeks, I feel as if all I have done is hustle from one place to another. Right now I *should* be listening to my tag-team partner present, and I am going to have to do that soon, but basically for the past couple weeks I have been doing everything, and it feels like *nothing*. I have only been in to Eviljob after-hours, and I am not sure how much longer I can keep this up. Frankly, I am tired. Gah.

My partner is fielding a question about third-world countries right now that reminds me about a post I saw on SHFB about using one's period for good, and thankfully I am not the one answering 'cos I would prolly come off like a Nazi, plus this is about aid in general, specifically mosquito nets, and I cannot think of any parallels other than tampons. This, chirrin, is known as a recency effect, or at least it would be once I made the segue back on to something unlikely to make me sound like a Nazi...like the recency effect.

I should have picked up something to eat...bwaah. I woke up this morning craving coffee -- specifically Starschmucks' raspberry-with-soy, but did not take the time to stop 'cos I hate Starschmucks; they charge too much, and...and...and...ummm... they lack theology and geometry. Yeah. That's it.

:-D

So I am starving, and conceivably have no free time until like, this evening. Grr. This will teach me to volunteer for things. Although I am currently just grumbling self-absorbedly and doing nothing (which, if tapped, would be what Meg would tell you I do all day), my involvement occurs in a bit. That's why I am being unobtrusive right now -- so that I don't seem as if I am trying to steal the spotlight, make Partner look (as if I feel they are) incapable, or monopolise everything (which, if queried, would be what Meg would tell you I *actually* do at any opportunity). I cannot help it that I have an overwhelming personality; I was born like that. Partner knows if they need me, I am right here, and we already spent a lot of time dividing this up, so it's all good. So I am going to try to stop feeling as if everyone is wondering what my justification for breathing, much less sitting up here is. This was a *huge* hurdle for me to overcome when I first started training for Eviljob a million years ago; I am *still* teased about giving people ten seconds to complete something 'cos I felt as if I should be talking. :-) That, thankfully, was a long, long time ago. I still *feel* worthless and judged (and found sorely wanting), but I have learnt to shut up, take turns, and back off so that it doesn't show. :-)

Butsoanyway.

I didn't take the time to get coffee also cos I overslept a little -- I had a weird dream in which I was being prosecuted in a totally science-fictiony scenario, but I had this brilliant lawyer who ended up making me this huge legal precedent...it was cool.

gah...have to run

birds, For the. 1 - 781 sic passim

Of all the things Mummers has ever done to me, I will never, *ever* forgive her this one.

Oh my heavens, no.

As of this morning, I have been recruited -- in the midst of my busy season -- to be, basically (making a long description and explanation short), her typist; my Mommy fired the person who was helping her because she did not like something they did and is trying to prove something to Whomever, and I've been temporarily conscripted. And, of course, I am being paid Not One Red Cent for this.

Screw bastards; everybody's a total fucker. Srsly.

Bonus points for title's reference. Triple bonus points for finding all the things I am doing to Mummers' shit. I'm expecting most will survive once it's done. I mean, freaking *prove* that Fleegle, Bingo, Drooper, and Snork (1970) did not say half the things I say they did in a defunct journal.

In a foreign language.

At the moment, I am leaning towards Esperanto.

I'm betting no one will look that closely. Heh. Plus, I hear that they were quite prolific authors, and held opinion -- both expert and peer-reviewed -- on many varied topics. As did Momary, Douglas; Jo, Emmy; Hepo, Henrietta; Fraug, Frederic; and Aul, Charles (1977) in their monumental work, Review of the Zoological Neo-Garden. Far, far more interesting than the drivel Mummers is yammering on about.

Damn, I crack me the hell up.

Okay, okay...I am not *that* bad. But seriously, I AM stressing now. I do not need this. I get this, however, 'cos I am the most 'available' of her children, and she needs 'just a little help'. And yeah, I know -- I am the only one who laughs at my jokes. :-)

Sigh. I may not get to sleep again until like, March. She thinks things will change by Friday and she will get her way, but I do not believe her. Let us hope.

Double bonus points for...well, you know.

I want a nickel a word, or something. Fuckers.

bwaah.

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Welcome to my breakdown; I hope I didn't scare you...

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Ok...I have to make this quick, 'cos I simply must get some sleep; I am exhausted and in pain.

When I started bleeding, I tried to phone my marvellous gyn, and found out that he was closed. As in for months. My GP told me that he has cancer of the bile duct(s).

Ok, so I broke down over that one. I love my gyn.

Butsoanyway.

So I had to go hunting for a new gyn, and took many recommendations. Of those, I picked the one who would see me the soonest.

Ok, so here's the skinny:

My pain is partly due to cervical cysts/abscess things. That is ok. Since I have never had them before (as far as we know), this is probably easily fixable.

The other part of my pain and the whole of my bleeding however, Dr Gyn thinks may have another cause. I am having an ultrasound over the weekend, and a biopsy this coming Thursday. I really dread being overly-dramatic, and this is NOT a diagnosis, but Dr Gyn is looking at the possibility of endometrial cancer.

Oh, yay.


I did freak, I am nervous (I would be lying if I said that I was not), but I am not going to allow myself a full-blown freak-out until I get biopsy results. So don't panic.

DON'T PANIC: That is like, the best advice in the world. Ever. Bar none.

In Other News, Romeo is doing well and was upped to 150-whatevers of fluids 2x/wk from the 100 he was getting 'cos he is constipated. And I had to buy DSS for him...which turns out to be just plain ol' Colace. Well, the girl at the pharmacy did not know that, and Dr Vet was closed, so I had to phone my GP to ask him if he knew what DSS for constipation was. Thank god my GP keeps freaky hours and loves me...and animals. :-) So Rome is on Colace. 100mg per day, in case you ever need to get your cat of approximately ten lbs to poop and cannot get to the vet right away. It takes about 12 hours to work, and it helps if one wets the pill first to make it slimy.

And Meg is off to some tournament in New Orleans. Mom left for the weekend as well, so I am all alone. And lonely. Sigh. And drowning in work.

More later when I am not so tired and in so much pain. Promise. I have taken one Cataflam *and* 800mg of Ibuprofen, and I am still hurting. Time for Tramadol. Sigh.

P.S.: Yes, I gave Harry the money to get his god damned car back. Call me stupid.

.

I am still alive...

I am just having a horrid week. Everyone else is fine though, so I guess that is good.

The Red Paw of Courage

This is Romeo yesterday evening. They sent him home with a 'Red Paw of Courage'. :-) He is hiding in the upper storey of his cat condo, trying to sleep, wishing Mom would go the fuck away.

Mom did -- rilly. Dr Vet said to.

Today I could not stay home and watch him, so I stayed with him typing for as long as I could, then I phoned Meg to stop by on her way out of town (she is going to Vegas) and take Rome to Dr Vet's for water, another shot of antibiotics (he looked at the Baytril in a Pill Pocket and told me to go screw myself, and he is too sick for me to get into trying to force the pill down his throat), more pain meds, and whatever else.

Right after Meg left, Dr Vet phoned & said that he wanted another kidney function test anyway, so Romeo got that. BUN was still around 80-something, and CREA was 3.9 (he phoned a few hours later, 'cos he was leaving and knew I would want to know). Dr Vet said that was ok for now, all things considered, and he has older pets with similar values who are staying stable with fluid therapy. I offered that if it gets worse, I would want to put Romeo down before making him live with feeling like shit all the time. High Creatinine (I am told) is not *painful*, one just feels shitty and run-down all the time, like being permanently sick. That's a suck-ass QoL if you ask me. I may reconsider if I can get him to purr regularly, or if he *seems* happy and ok with feeling shitty...we'll see when it happens. *IF* it happens.

I have a break right now; I also was told to make Rome eat tonight. Something. Anything. :-) Dr Vet said if Romeo wants pizza and beer, he gets pizza and beer. Seriously, though; I will start with a/d, and if that does not work, I will syringe-feed baby food (again, bless Wildrun for educating me about that!!).

I still have to finish typing one paper, then I am (mostly) done. I still have to go to work all day tomorrow (Eviljob), so I have already made plans to drop Romeo off at Dr Vet's and somehow miraculously pick him up before he closes at four. Argh.

Today I started shaking -- my right hand and arm -- and I thought, 'oh, wonderful; I am sure that's MS or Parkinson's'...then I realised that the last actual sleep I had was Monday night, and the last time I actually ate was Wednesday.

That might have something to do with it. Maybe tonight I'll have some a/d with Rome.

Sigh.

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Lord knows when your A/C goes, you'll sweat into the ground...

I'm over-tired, and the weather sucks. It is cold, but the parking lot cats are doing fine, and my cats are mostly sleeping, which is normal for them. :-) Breakfast is doing okay, I see Blacktoe a lot, and Mehitabel only occasionally, which means she's probably pregnant again.

Bwaah.

I have a lot to say. I mean, I could really literally write a freaking *book* at this point, but there just isn't enough time. I am going nuts; I feel as if I haven't slept in a year. I have more to do than I will ever accomplish in this *lifetime*.

I did get depressed yesterday, and it is sticking with me a little bit. I was messaged by an old friend who has asked me on and off for a long time now if I wanted to hear about So-and-So, an other old friend (of sorts) whom I left on iffy-at-best terms. Each time, I said no. Yesterday afternoon, I said yes. Well, actually, I said, 'Fine. What?'

Well, it turns out that he's dead.

This actually has made me pretty...something. Hurt, depressed, bereft of hope...something. Sad. Very sad.

I had always thought that eventually I would get around to seeing him again. I guess I should have come off my Attitude Pedestal a little earlier. And I'm going to quit this paragraph before I start quoting Fire and Rain.

I really have to break out of this...this thing I am in. This rut. Or whatever. It is only getting worse, and I am going batshit.

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