Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Internet Tests, I Love Having Proof

So I got served an Americano last night. It was not decaf. The following is why I try not to drink it. I was going to remove some of the test results, but since I am a little annoyed, I have a sudden urge to be annoying!

First, I did have a couple of bizarre dreams. The last one left me feeling jumpy and scared, so I GOT UP AT 4:00 AM!

1. I have been having a lot of shopping dreams. So many that last night I revisited a mall that had been a backdrop in a previous dream. When I saw a pair of shoes that I liked on display, I started to leave my group to go to the shoe department. Then I remembered that I had just seen everything they had and it was too soon for them to have added new inventory or dropped prices. I laughed when I woke up.

2. A big group of people were all staying overnight at someone's house for a type of slumber party. For some reason, I decided to sleep in the sideyard. I woke up hearing voices coming from the front of the house. They were strangers, not people from the party. I then realized that not only had one of them seen me, I had kicked off my sleeping bag and pajama bottoms in my sleep. I heard him going to get the others so I started looking for my pants. I finally found them and put them on while sitting down trying to maintain some form of modesty. I grabbed my teddy bear and ran around the house to the back door just as I heard them coming. The dream suddenly turned very frightening and I woke up yelling.

Sometimes when I wake up from those, I can't let myself go back to sleep because I go straight back to the nightmare or something worse happens. So, I got up instead thinking I would go back to sleep at daybreak when I would be less likely to have a bad dream. It is now 8:00; I am still not tired and now I have to go take my Adderall. I am so curious as to what today will be like. The good news is I barely feel fatigued. I almost feel normal.

One thing I am sure of is that there is a nap in my future.

Your result for The 3 Variable Funny Test...

the Cutting Edge

(57% dark, 42% spontaneous, 21% vulgar)

your humor style:

Your humor's mostly innocent and off-the-cuff, but somehow there's something slightly menacing about you. Part of your humor is making people a little uncomfortable, even if the things you say aren't themselves confrontational. You probably have a very dry delivery, or are seriously over-the-top.

Your type is the most likely to appreciate a good insult and/or broken bone and/or very very fat person dancing.

PEOPLE LIKE YOU: David Letterman - John Belushi


The 3-Variable Funny Test!
- it rules -

Take The 3 Variable Funny Test at OkCupid

Your result for The Commonly Confused Words Test...

English Genius

You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 87% Advanced, and 87% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!

Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!

For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.

Take The Commonly Confused Words Test at OkCupid

Your result for The Personality Defect Test...


You are 29% Rational, 100% Extroverted, 0% Brutal, and 57% Arrogant.

As the Lord as my witness, I swear upon the good book that you are indeed the TELEVANGELIST!
Characterized by extreme arrogance, self-assurance, and extroversion, you would make a very charismatic leader (though not a very good one). On top of that, you are also more intuitive than rational, predisposing you to a more spiritual or emotional outlook on life. Thus, you are thoroughly irrational, and you tend to think that sound logical reasoning is overrated, and that it is much better to trust your gut instincts--which must be pretty big instincts, considering the size of your gut. You also tend to be rather gentle and considerate of others' feelings. Clearly, you would make the perfect televangelist. You could easily fleece people of their money and their dignity like so many sheep. Emotional, extroverted, arrogant, and gentle, you annoy the hell out of people who have to listen to the feel-good, intuitive shit spewing from your mouth. Not only that, but people may look down on you as a self-centered asshat. So while you are gentle and genuinely care about others, it is quite clear that you still care about yourself MORE. Why is your personality flawed? Because you are too damned extroverted, emotional, and arrogant. So preach your irrational message, brotha-man! I assure you, no one will be listening. Except for a few bums. But they just want you to feed them crackers and wine.

To put it less negatively:

1. You are more INTUITIVE than rational.

2. You are more EXTROVERTED than introverted.

3. You are more GENTLE than brutal.

4. You are more ARROGANT than humble.

Your result for The What type of MAN turns you on Test...

Tough guy

You scored 85% masculine, 71% athletic, 45% exotic, and 50% refined!

You love men, you love testosterone and you know it. You like a bad-ass man who knows what he wants. He isn't what you might bring home to mom but I don't think it really matters - he's hot! Someone like.....Vin Diesel. But let's face it, the whole point of this was to look at a bunch of hot guys. If you liked what you saw, please rate my test!

Take The What type of MAN turns you on Test at OkCupid

Your result for The Brutally Honest Personality Test...

Scumbag- ENFP

60% Extraversion, 60% Intuition, 40% Thinking, 40% Judging

I have a feeling you're not going to like this much. Do I care? No. How do I know? It's because you hate criticism. You love to be loved and you'll do anything to be accepted.

Unfortunately for you, I can see right through your insincere compliments and over-the-top greetings. No matter what you do, I'll always hate you for what you are. An arrogant, unstable, overly enthusiastic scumbag.

I bet you're pretty proud of your accomplishments, huh? You seem to achieve at whatever you put your little mind too. Trust me. Nobody likes the person who is good at everything. NOBODY LIKES YOU.

This might also have something to do with the fact that you're a cheating machine. You're just not the type of person to make long-term commitments. You enjoy seeing "what could be", rather than being satisfied with "what is." This, of course, means you often leave others in the dust while you seek out another lover.

Well, at least you're not the one left in the dust.

Unfortunately, when you're the one lying in the gutter with a bloody knife in your back, you might think differently.


If you want to learn more about your personality type in a slightly less negative way, check out this.

Take The Brutally Honest Personality Test at OkCupid

What This World Needs Is More Genuflecting

We discussed my lack of fear for authority figures. It should also be documented that I hate brown nosing. I have a real respect for the talent it takes to manage a pleasing balance of groveling and complimenting. I just can't quite bring myself to do it. I have a very hard time lying and it shows all over my face. I can lie. I just have to make sure that I don't realize I am lying. Which is usually a lie of omission, but can be me talking about something that isn't that important. Then it just comes out as a bit of embellishment.

Like lying most of my life is unintentional. This has its own set of unique advantages and problems. The advantage is that I just let life happen, sit back and enjoy the ride. It makes my life pretty much worry free. I say or do things without thinking about it and they generally work to my advantage. The down side of this is that I just let life happen, sit back and enjoy the ride until I start hitting major problems. Then I spend all my time reacting to and trying to contain the consequences of my inactions. That part can really suck. I don't have anyone to blame but myself, and because I have let matters pile up so badly I end up in crisis mode desperately trying to get my life back in order.

While there are a lot of things I am learning to make intentional choices about, there is one thing that will never change. My complete lack of physical grace is definitely here to stay. I don't know if it has to do with my ADD, but I am incredibly clumsy. My mom once told my ex-boyfriend that she loves watching me walk across linoleum because it is even more obvious that I trip over nothing but my own feet. That is because my mind wanders and I forget to pick up my feet. This also causes me to drop stuff all the time. I get distracted, forget that I am holding something and relax my hand. No joke.

I also have poor fine motor functioning. Shakes McGee actually comes from the fact that my hands are always shaking so I started telling people who noticed, "That's why they call me Shakes McGee." Weird non-explanation, but people just accept it. This is a perfect example of lying without knowing it. Before this blog, no one called me Shakes McGee. Right now most of my friends just found out where the hell that name comes from. I am giggling thinking about how they wanted to ask but thought it was something they should know. Luckily for you peeps, one of those friends has reminded me of an example that includes all of those clumsy traits so you can get an idea of how it affects my life.

Our office is set up for the most part without cubicle walls. One side of the room has half walls that you can see over and the other side has none at all. There is a walkway that leads between those two sections. About six months after I started working there, I was walking down the Aisle of Doom to my desk, minding my own business when I noticed a paperclip on the floor. Without stopping, still looking forward, I knelt down to pick it up. Due to a lack of fine motor skills, I missed it the first time so without looking I grabbed for it again. When I missed it a second time, I looked down. It was at this point I forgot that I was still walking. My body continued to move forward while my hand reach backward.

Fortunately the body is a wonderful thing and very quickly worked to maintain balance by bringing the knee of my back leg down. This allowed me to keep moving forward because it lengthened my body. Unfortunately, it halted the walking process as I was not able to lift my foot to take the next step. My body, acting under last known orders, still tried to take that step by dragging my back knee forward bringing my other knee down for support. My brain, still unaware of our predicament, failed to give the required "stop" signal. Since my body is very determined, it continued forward with my torso. Unable to actually move in distance, it really just forced my face toward the ground. My arms flew to the rescue up over my head and saved the day by catching me before I actually hit the floor. But, they also were still in Forward Ho mode so they came down as far in front of me as possible.

I looked up to see my boss' partner facing the aisle instead of his computer. This ensured that I was at his feet. He stared at me with only a glimmer in his eye and I thought he was going to let me walk away. He isn't usually the joking guy. But, I guess that situation was just too much to pass up. As I got up and dusted myself off, he said, "You don't have to bow down to me, but I do appreciate it."

On the bright side, I have decided that I am excused from ever having to kiss up to him. So unintentionally, I resolved that whole issue.

Monday, March 29, 2010

Your Friendly Amature Nutritionalist

I have been studying nutrition for years. It started when I found out I had hypoglycemia and found out the difference between simple carbs and complex carbs. That just fascinated me and the more I learned, the more I wanted to know. Our bodies are amazing. And they way they process foods is so complex it will probably take the rest of my life to learn everything I want to know.

Why do you care? You probably don't. But, this way when I get super excited and want to share vast, endless, boring information, people will have the choice to skip over it or read it. Unlike in real life where I can go on for hours and bore people to tears. But, if you have any questions, leave them in the comments. Now is the perfect time to ask because I love research and have run out of Buffy reruns for a while.

Here is my top 5 list that I wish I could teach everyone.

1. Drink 8 glasses of water a day (64 oz. Drink it throughout the day not all at once.) Seriously folks. You body needs that to flush all of the crap from your body. Unless you eat solely unprocessed food, you are consuming things that aren't food. Your liver, your tonsils, your glands and your fat cells are all places the body stores things it can't process. If they are busy holding that stuff, they can't perform their normal functions correctly.

2. Eat something every two to three hours. Your body needs energy. Luckily, if you don't provide that energy, it has a never ending supply. Muscle. Just think about this the next time you are tempted to go without. Your body will eat its own flesh to survive. Zombies are cool these days, but is that really what you aspire to be?

3. Eat at least 9 grams of protein with every meal. I would suggest you do it with every 3 hour snack, but I know that can be hard and I won't push my luck. Your body needs protein. It is the slow burning energy. Carbs are processed quickly and used quickly. Protein is what keeps you energetic until your next meal. It's like building a campfire. You start with twigs to get the fire going, then you add more substantial logs because they burn longer. Carbs are the twigs, proteins are the logs. If you only eat carbs, your fire will die long before you get to your next meal.

4. Eat breakfast. I really hope that everyone already knows this. But, just in case, I am putting it on here. If you don't eat breakfast you are going 14 - 18 hours without food. Really? Do you think that is smart? All you are doing is forcing your body to conserve its energy. Your body will not wake up and start functioning until it is fed. You will be cranky and half-asleep through the first part of your day. Yeah, I know you aren't hungry when you get up. Well grow up. You are an adult, not a 4-year-old. You should have learned by now that somethings have to be done whether you like it or not.

5. Don't follow any diet that tells you to cut out fat, carbohydrates or protein. Those are an automatic fail. If you want to lose weight, take a serious look at what you eat day after day and how much. Follow serving suggestions by actually measuring your food and count your calories. If honestly think you are doing everything correctly, but are still overweight, go to a doctor. There is something wrong with your body if it isn't responding correctly to a healthy lifestyle. It is either one or the other peeps.

There is no magic in between option to good health. That is all fads are, you know. Magic beans. But, hey if those beans actually grow, let me know because I am trying to find Prince Charming and he may be in your area as well.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

The Difference Between Religion and Faith

For some reason, I am lacking in fear for authority figures. It takes about 20 minutes to lose that initial intimidation factor. Not exactly 20 minutes, but pretty close. I came to this realization by interviewing for a position in my church's district administrative office. Not only was I subjected to the normal interview questions regarding my strengths and weaknesses, I was also asked a variety of lifestyle questions. A normal person would downplay any questionable habits and give nice, Christian answers. I would have done the same if those questions had come at the beginning of the interview. Unfortunately, the District Superintendent had spent quite a bit of time and charm disarming me and making me comfortable.

I confessed immediately that I was a closet smoker when asked. Disappointed at the turn of questions but knowing where they were headed, I added that I also had a beer now and then. I emphasized that I didn't drink in front of people who might take issue with it. He then asked if I felt that I was sinning because I took pains to hide both of these habits. Stunned at the question, I responded that I was ashamed of smoking because it was a horrible habit. I was careful about drinking so I didn't offend anyone who had a problem with it. He then asked if I would be willing to give them up to take the job and I came to a nice simmer.

I told him I would be willing to try and quit smoking since I wanted to anyway but, I would not stop drinking to uphold a mixed message. It was pointless for them to condone drinking but enforce abstinence among their employees. If the office had a problem with my drinking and didn't hire me that was fine, but I couldn't compromise my integrity. Surprisingly, this answer and my indignation went over quite well. He even told me he respected my answer and agreed that it was not a sin. Then he asked me how I felt about gambling and my gentle simmer turned to a rolling boil.

Suddenly realizing this interview had been a waste of both our time and irritated that he actually expected a thoughtful response, I began answering the questions with every intent of showing just how irrelevant I thought the subject was.

"I don't have a problem with gambling."

"Do you gamble?"

"I haven't yet, but I haven't really had an opportunity."

"So, do you want to gamble?"

"I've never really thought about it before, but it might be fun."

"So, if someone called me and told me that they saw you at a casino, what would you expect me I say to them?"

"Well, I would expect you to say, 'Oh yes, she told me that she was going to be out there playing bingo this weekend.' Because chances are, if I am going to gamble, it would be on Bingo. And, knowing me, I would talk about it nonstop the entire week before. Oh, and I would expect you to follow up by asking them how they enjoyed the casino."

When they called and offered me the job a week later, I was speechless. About a year in I jokingly asked if I could get my eyebrow pierced and he said yes. So, I did. At the pastors' retreat, they wanted newly pierced me to offer the group prayer at lunch in front of over 200 pastors and their wives. When I saw they weren't kidding, I pretended to get up and go for more food. Before I could make my escape, I was gently taken by the arm and led up to the front of the room. It was the weirdest mix of anger, satisfaction, embarrassment and affirmation I have ever felt. After I moved on to another job, I found out that I was quite unpopular with the district churches. He spent a lot of time on the phone shutting down people who called in to complain about me. I suspect that having me pray was a response to that backlash in addition to his phone conversations. He told me he answered every call the same way. "God cares about her heart, not her eyebrow. And I feel exactly the same."

That man helped shape the way I look at everyone including myself. Good on ya' wherever you are.

PS, I totally forgot the question that I think turned the tide for me. He asked what I would do if grown men started chasing each other around the office with squirt guns. I told him I would pull my preloaded super soaker from the bottom drawer and return fire.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Conversation Between Me and My Mom

Me (leaving message): Call me puh-lease. I am bored and need someone to talk to. Don't worry about waking me up, I don't take the phone with me when I take a nap. So call me. Please. Whenever you get this. Call me. Please. Call me. I want to talk to you. Call me Please. Call me. OK Luh-uh-vuh you. Bye.

Incoming call from my mom three hours later:

Me (slightly raised voice) You're too late! I don't want to talk anymore.

Mom (Not waiting for me to finish and yelling) What the Hell do you want?

Snickers from both of us.

Me Ahhh, I love us.

Mom dissolves into laughter.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Enter Sandman

I have a twofer today. (I can't believe that twofer just got through spellcheck. I am even more surprised because it just flagged spellcheck.) I forgot to blog my dream yesterday, and I had another one last night. Neither are that entertaining to me, but you all seem to like them. Give the people what they want!

Sunday night:

My dream took place in a swamp location. It was a sort of garden park, I think I was a tour guide, but I am not sure. A friend that I haven't seen in forever was there with her kids and husband. Nope, I just realized, this is WAY too close to reality. I can't tell it without giving explanations that aren't really mine to give. I will tell you that all the buildings were log structures on stilts and we rode around in boats. It reminded me a lot more of a Louisiana swamp than a Florida swamp. If it makes you feel any better, the dream wasn't about you. Seriously, this person doesn't read my blog, or I don't know that they do. I guess I should say if I know that you read my blog it isn't you. If you have been lurking here, trying to get information about me and my life without me knowing, then it might be about you. (Mine is an evil laugh!)

Monday night:

I am working as a Flight Attendant/US Marshall on an overseas flight. There are two other flight attendants and a supervisor. Which is totally bizarre because it is a normal size plane not a jumbo size and only the first 10 rows or so are filled. On the way overseas, I get into some kind of trouble over something that isn't my fault and I didn't do; I get fired anyway. I don't remember the trouble, but one of the other flight attendants (2FA), a brunette, stands up for me. So even though I still get fired, I am not disgraced and viewed as a hero, making it more of an honorable discharge. They still have to make an example of me, and can't overturn the decision. Apparently, the only concession is that I am allowed to finish my shift because I am still working on the return flight to the states. I should mention that the same passengers are also on the way back to the states. I guess we just flew over there, turned around and flew back for the fun of it.

As I am moving around the aisles, I look up to see the third, blond flight attendant (3FA) hand a styrofoam cup to her husband who is sitting in the last occupied row. I hear her tell him to take it, but not to drink it. It is filled with a liquid that is obviously supposed to resemble coffee, but is too light in color and looks more like beef broth. Then he dips his fingers in the brownish liquid and wipes it on his tie. I can't figure out what is going on, but I feel like something bad is going to happen, so I start moving to the back of the plane to circumvent whatever deviousness is about to take place. Before I can get there 3FA turns and says, "Oh, sir, you have spilled your coffee! Let me take that for you." Then she offers him a towel and starts to put the cup on her cart. But, suddenly she stops and sniffs the cup. Immediately she is yelling that the cup is actually a toxin and a terrorist is trying to booby trap the plane.

Panic ensues as 3FA builds up the drama about how someone is trying to harm her husband and he almost died and was only saved because he accidentally spilled it instead. The supervisor is now there and confirms that it is a deadly toxin and asks the man where he got the cup. He points at 2FA and says she served him. She stands there stunned for a moment before she turns to 3FA and calls her a Dog! I try to intervene and reveal what actually happened, but no one is listening because they are upset and just want the issue resolved so they can relax for the rest of the flight. Finally I realize that it doesn't matter what I say, 2FA is going to take the fall for this. I decide to stop her from arguing because at this point, she can only make matters worse and she needs to stop talking and start planning her defense.

Being a US Marshall, I take her under custody and put her in the unoccupied row behind the husband. I sit in the aisle to guard her, but am so indigent at the whole situation, I start commenting loudly to the rest of the plane. A passenger asks a question and I yell, "I don't know, why don't you punch a Dog in the mouth and see what she says." At this point, some of the passengers cheer because all of a sudden they realize that 3FA is really the bad guy.

Her husband turns around and says, "Oh, SNAP!" Then he holds out his first two fingers for me to touch in response, like a two-fingered, give-me-some-skin way. Feeling good that even he has all of a sudden switched sides, I go to give him two but I miss. It didn't seem to phase him and I was secretly relieved because my fingers were all greasy and crumby and I didn't have anywhere to wipe them off and that would have been awkward.

Next thing I know, the husband, 2FA and I are in the parking lot. I am loading my luggage into the trunk of my car. He says we should get everyone together and go support 2FA at Bronx court. In my mind, I quickly rationalize that of course it is being held at Bronx court because even though it is an international flight, that is where 2FA is from. I thought it was a great idea and I thought, "Well, that's one good thing about losing my job. I am good at organizing and now I will have time to make this happen."

Then I wake up in a satisfied, relieved state of mind that everything is working out.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

I Thought I Was Playing It Cool

Probably my absolute favorite memory of myself as a kid was when I tried to have a grown up conversation with my uncle. I love it because I can remember what was going on in my mind as a child as well as now seeing it from an adult point of view.

My dad comes from a very large family. He has 13 brothers and sisters, so family dinners at Grandma's were always a little chaotic. This wasn't a full gathering; we were all squeezed together at the main dining table. I managed to secure my favorite place as usual. It was a chair just to the left of center on the long side of the table that was up against the wall. No one else wanted to sit there because once you got in, you were trapped for the duration of the meal. I, however, loved it because it was the only seat where you could get a direct view of the living room TV that remained on during dinner.

This was long before we knew I had ADD. Back then when I was in a crowded room, I couldn't filter out sounds. I heard every voice, conversation, word and noise at the same time, which was overwhelmingly difficult to process. It was easier to daydream and shut it all out which left me feeling isolated even as a young kid. I never knew what was going on around me and always had to play catch up anytime someone spoke to me. Hence my favorite TV chair. It gave me something visual to focus on so that I could block out the noise. In dire situations, I could blame the TV if I failed to respond to someone. Oddly enough, lack of noise could draw my attention. Which is why I noticed my uncle sitting across from me not saying anything.

He wasn't looking at me; he seemed not to be looking at anything. But, he did look kind of left out, so I felt obligated to talk to him so he would feel included. He was very grown up, in his late teens or early twenties, and I was only about six so I thought I should probably have a mature conversation with him. I didn't know what to say, but suddenly a commercial appeared on TV that I recognized. Since I never had a clue what they were talking about, It was obviously a grown up topic. I figured I would just ask the same question they always did and pretend to understand whatever answer he gave. So, I looked at him asked.

He stared at me for the longest time before he burst out laughing which silenced the rest of the room. For a while, people just stared at him like he had lost his mind since no one else was laughing or seemed to know what had happened. They kept trying to ask him what was so funny but he was laughing too hard to talk. Finally, he pointed at me and my dad asked me to explain. I shrugged my shoulders and said, "I don't know. All I did was ask him, 'What do you do when hemorrhoids flare up?'"

A few years ago, the memory, along with a sudden understanding, randomly came to mind. I couldn't stop laughing either.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

You Down With NPP?

Well, time to admit defeat. I believe I have once again relapsed. My throat hurts and the unmanageable fatigue is back. I now have to clarify between fatigues as one I can work with and the other I can't. So, I am back on my own couch trying not to be totally discouraged. I really need to get back to work soon. My boss has discovered Facebook. It's not bad that he has a page, but he has created a page for the company. Well, 2 pages actually. One page has our logo for a profile picture, the other one doesn't. The no photo page is a fan of the photo page. Obviously it isn't really a fan, but jealous of the other page for having a photo. It's so wrong it is awesome!

I would like to add that he is probably just testing the whole system out. He is not unable to use Facebook correctly. But, this blog is all about how I see the world around me. Most of my life is spent making up back stories or alternate story lines for every situation I come across. This is just a verbal manifestation of that whole process. Well not the whole process. I left out the rant No Photo Page (NPP) had about Photo Page (PP). You know, how PP thinks it is so much better than everyone else because it has a logo. And how PP is such an attention whore that it sends out invites and forces everyone to become a fan of its page just so that it appears to be cooler than it really is. And how it isn't fair that NPP should feel obligated to become a fan because it doesn't really care. Now, NPP, who doesn't really care, is going to be shown up by PP because NPP doesn't have time to deal with keeping up a Facebook page. NPP has real work to do and can't waste energy finding an appropriate profile logo to add to its page. But, doesn't see a way out of becoming a fan because professional courtesy demands that NPP play along even though the whole situation is ludicrous and it has better things to do.

Now, you have the whole process.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010


Today was seriously the worst day of this whole mono stint. I am going to gripe and whine and this probably won't be amusing but I have to get it out of my system. So, skip it if you aren't into pity parties. I have a friend who firmly believes in pity parties. She says sometimes life just gets to be too much and you have to put on sack cloth, crawl into a dark closet and give yourself permission to be upset for 24 hours. I don't know if my 24 hours started this morning or right now, but either way I have at least 7 hours left.

I woke up this morning in unbelievable pain. It feels like I have been working out for hours after months of inactivity. Not much of a metaphor since that is exactly what has happened. I am so exhausted I just keep crying. I don't mean to, it just happens. I stop for two seconds and when I think about the next thing I have to do, the tears start rolling. I am on massive ibuprofen doses and they work for a little while in the morning, but today I couldn't even get that relief.

Yesterday I was so proud of myself. I went to work and put in six hours before I went home. I was tired, but it wasn't like I pushed myself. To wake up like this was totally unexpected. I made it to work and hung in there for two hours thinking I would feel better once I was there. I was so relieved when the other assistant came in, I started crying again because I knew I could go home. They would have let me leave earlier, but I just couldn't accept defeat before that two hour mark.

I am so desperately tired of feeling like crap. It seems like I've never been well. I think I have been sick since last September, it has been at least that long since I have felt rested or had any energy. It got easier when the mono finally knocked me down. It was such a relief to know I was sick and not have to worry about what was wrong with me. But now, I'm just discouraged. I know this isn't going to be forever but it feels like it. My mom said this morning that it sounded like I had lost hope. I thought that was silly, I know I am going to get better. But as I sit here writing this I think she might be right. I think that is why I have been crying all day. If I could just get a few moments of relief, I think it would be enough to get me over this next challenge of building my body back up.

I don't even know if I am really better. I my throat still gets sore when I get tired and that can't be because of muscle fatigue. I also know that I am just plain exhausted. Body, mind and soul I am worn thin or worn out. I think I am afraid to go to sleep. I am afraid to face how I will feel tomorrow. I don't want another day like today.

You know how when your stomach hurts, sometimes you just have to throw up so you can start to recover. Well I just verbally threw up. All over you. Sorry about that, but thanks for being there for a minute with me. I definitely feel better now that I have said all of that.

Or the Nyquil I took in desperation just kicked in. Either way, I think I can sleep now.

Sunday, March 14, 2010


I'm back at the coffee shop. This time though, there are no comfy places. OK, there are, but I'm not in the mood to mingle and if I can't have the couch to myself, I don't want a couch.

I've been on my feet all day getting ready for the week. I have all my lunches ready to be packed and outfits put together. It's comforting to see them all hanging in a row with accessories already picked out. My clothes, not the lunches. I wish I could figure out a way to accessorize my lunches. I figure all of this will cut my preparation by two thirds. I work so much better in the morning when I don't actually have to think.

I can't wait until I am no longer in pain every waking minute. What a glorious day that will be. I will sing and dance. I will be alone when that happens. I do enough things to embarrass myself in public. My most recent escapade involves one of my boss' clients. He is so pretty. Sometimes, I meet someone who is so attractive that my brain freezes. I can't speak, I can't move, I just stare in awe. Take this latest guy, let's call him Bruce. The first time I came face to face with Bruce, I stared so long, that one of the partners introduced me. I don't get introduced to clients. I open the door to the conference room. I bring in a tray with a pitcher of water and glasses. As I set it down on the table, I smile and nod to at the client. Then I leave, backing out the door looking around making sure nothing else is needed.

Not this time. I opened the door. I brought in the tray. As I set it down on the table, I smiled at Bruce and got caught in his eyes. I stare at him, frozen in time, with the tray hovering over the table. Like a statue to commemorate Executive Assistants everywhere. Who knows how long that went on before the partner finally cleared his throat and introduced me. I was so startled by his voice, I jumped. I like to think that I recovered. I like to think that I smiled, shook his hand and said nice to meet you. Instead I watched him get up out of his chair and offer his hand before I moved. I am pretty sure I blushed as I grabbed his hand before running out of the room. I believe I even slammed the door in my hurry to get out of dodge.

Wouldn't it be nice if that were the end of this story? If it were, I could tell you the next time I met Bruce I was all grace and charm. Since I don't possess any grace of movement and all of my charms are based on dancing the line of social acceptability, my imagination is not adequate to even dream of how that would look. Some time later, Bruce came in with two colleagues for a lunch meeting. I made sure the lunches and beverages were in the conference room prior to everyone's arrival. I
planned to regain at least a shred of my dignity. That plan consisted mostly of me not entering the conference room more than absolutely necessary. If all went well, I would only have to enter the room once. To my credit, I did only enter once.

I went in to check on them and I discovered that the second principal was present. Fortunately, he provided introductions at the first debacle, so my behavior could not have been completely unexpected. Keeping my gaze high and low to avoid any eye contact. I glanced around the room before I noticed him sitting there without a lunch. He joked about not being as important as his partner. Unfortunately instead of a witty comeback, I offered up my boss' lunch. Luckily this amused the crowd into laughing and sharing their own one-liners. I laughed right along with everyone, still maintaining zero eye contact. Then Bruce said something. I'd tell you what he said, but I don't remember because before I could stop myself, I turned and looked in his direction. I regained awareness fairly quickly this time and I told myself to look away. Then I screamed at myself to look away because I couldn't stop staring. Finally I lowered my head, laughed and followed up with a joke.

Relieved that I had clumsily recovered and he was probably the only one who noticed I started backing out of the door. (Trust me, I saw his face, he noticed.) I grabbed the handle and started closeing the door. In slow motion, I put my foot behind me, raised my head triumphantly at the closing of this scene and tripped over my own feet. Since I had the door handle in my hand, I managed to catch myself. But the weight of my fall backwards slammed the door in my own face.

For now, let's just end this story with that appropriate metaphor and hope there won't be any future installments.

This Is Just a Test

Seriously. I want to make sure l know how to publish a post via email so I can send instructions along with my idea to a friend.

Not that she asked, but it showcases one of my many random talents.  I learn software super quickly and I am naturally curious so I look at any and all options available in the software.  What's more, to the surprise of anyone who knows me, including myself, I remember all those options. My memory is spotty at best. Which is why it is totally bizarre that when someone asks how to do something the correct feature jumps immediately to my mind.  I don't usually recall how to do it, but since I know the answer exists I can figure out the how in a matter of minutes. Where does my brain stores this information? How do I access that option manually?

If I ever figure that out the world better watch out because that is the one thing that holds me back from fulfilling all the potential my teachers warned my parents about.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

I Feel Like a Cliche

So, I have graduated from sitting on my couch and surfing the web to the coffee shop three blocks away, sitting on a couch and surfing the web. It just makes me giggle. My first casual outing and I do exactly what I would do at home. I am even ordered an iced latte with sugar free chocolate syrup. The same drink I make for myself at home. The sad thing is that I was so excited that they had sugar free chocolate that I ordered it without even thinking. At least it tastes a little better than I would have made it. They probably used whole milk instead of skim.

When I arrived, I had to walk pass an entire row of tables full of people working on their laptops. Then I looked around to see if there was a place to sit and noticed that all the laptop users were at tables. This caused a small panic attack because I hate the chairs they have for their tables. I seriously stopped to wonder if I would be breaking a rule or something by sitting on a couch. Is there an unwritten social norm that I have to sit at a table if I have a laptop? Then after all of two seconds pondering the idea I realized that I didn't care. Once I bust out my computer, they will realize I am above any of their petty rules. The cover is orange with fighting robots!

I always worry on my way over here that this place is just a little too cool for me. I know there are people here who are just hanging out, but I can never shake that pretentious vibe. The world may hate me but that is why I prefer Starbucks. I love to shop locally, but I just can't get into these local coffee shops. They radiate this holier than thou, judgmental attitude that I don't like. I don't go to church for the exact reason, why would I pay to drink my coffee in the same environment? I am terrified that they are going to ask me for my order and I am going to blurt out, "I don't pay extra for organic!"

Now that I've settled into my area and feel comfortable, I can see it isn't really that bad at all. They gave me a to go cup without asking, allowing me to avoid the whole embarrassment of getting it to go but drinking it here. It's not that I need the plastic cup. I just like the idea that I have the option of leaving whenever I want. I blame my dread of coming down here on growing up in the Northwest.

Holy Hell, those coffee places are frightening. If you ask for anything that remotely resembles a Starbucks drink, I am pretty sure they spit in your glass. Even if you disguise your order, they know. I can tell by the sneer. They talk to you like espresso is wine and you should know the difference between Guatemalan bold and South African spicy. I suffer derision for ordering decaf. It's true. I even had to develop an automatic response to keep myself from feeling like I am in gym class waiting to be picked for volleyball. They look down at me from over their thick, black rims and snort, "Why bother?" To which I can now calmly and unemotionally respond, "I don't drink coffee for a buzz, I drink it for the flavor." How or why that works, I don't know and I don't care. All I know is it calls off the dogs.

And God forbid you order no foam. I don't know what it is about the Northwest and their foam, but apparently asking for no foam is like asking for a fork with your sushi. Personally, I think they get pissed because they can't take an extra five minutes to create an ingenious design that you are forced to admire. (Ooh, I bet the design is also the reason they hate to go cups. Lids don't allow them to express themselves creatively!) But, I don't like foam; it keeps the heat in the coffee. I like it barely more than warm. Either I have a sensitive mouth or the general population has built up a protective layer of scarring. How do you manage to drink a scalding hot cup of coffee without burning your tongue irreparably for the rest of the day? That is one of life's great mysteries in my book. I can only imagine what would happen if I ordered a latte extra warm. I might even render a barista (what is the male version of that word?) speechless. I could tell them that at least they would get to draw in their foam.

I am so doing that the next time I visit Portland!

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

How I Ended Up With Mr. Wrong.

I forgot how much fun the dating scene can actually be. I posted this ad on Craigslist and received this response:

That's an awesome gift. What a dumbass. So are you free this Friday?
His loss I'm sure.
Awesome CL ad.
Take it easy.

My instinct says he is a loser who wants nice gifts. But society would tell me I am bitter and focusing on the negative. As luck would have it, a search of his email on Facebook gives us exhibit A in the battle between negative nancy vs. woman's intuition.

Score one for woman's intuition.

I have dated guys I met online before. I am not against the idea, but my experience screams caution. All of them were looking for an instant soulmate. They wanted to date once and fall immediately in love. Oh what a lucky day for me when certain key interests proved I was the one. I like C.S. Lewis and Dragonlance. I collect art and comic books. I have a professional job and play video games. I have a rack and watch anime. It was weird. Anything about me that didn't fit their profile was rejected or explained away. Like this:

Guy: Hey, what do you think about scary movies?

Me: I used to love them, but can't watch them anymore. I get nightmares.

Guy: Well, this new one coming out is something you would really like so we can go see that.

Me: Um, no. I appreciate the thought, but I really can't.

Guy: Wow, some guy must have really screwed you up. I am not him and you can trust me.

Me: This is less about trust and more about my fear of the dark.

Guy: One day you will be able to face how damaged you are and won't reject ideas out of hand.

Me: You are right, when my psyche stops giving me nightmares, I will watch scary movies.

Guy: I know you think you are complicated, but you really aren't. You need to figure out who you are without outside influences. I can be your teacher.

Me: Like that creepy song Father Figure by George Michael? If Lifetime could get the rights, they would make that the theme song for all their movies.

Guy: You use negativity like this to close yourself off emotionally.

Me: Wait, are we talking about the song?

Guy: Look, I know you are the girl for me. It already feels like I have known you forever.
And because I know in my soul that you are who I want to be with, I know you will love this movie.

Me: Have you ever seen a Lifetime movie? You might want to watch one to bone up on what not to say on a first date.

Guy: Just come watch Saw XIVX with me and I will explain it to you so you understand it.

Me: Those movies are pretty self explanatory. It's the images that give me nightmares.

Guy: That's fine, I will stay the night with you. No sex or anything, I just want to be there to take away your fears.

Me: Wait, are you trying to get me to have a nightmare so that you can comfort me or are you trying to seduce me? I can't decide which is worse.

Guy: I can't believe how jaded you are. I know you won't admit this, women never do, but all women really want to be rescued.

Me: I don't want to be rescued.

Guy: I told you that you would say that. I know you so well. We are already working past your trust issues.

Me: Yeah well, unfortunately because of my trust issues, I will have to insist on not letting you drive me home tonight.

Guy: This is why you are still single.

Me: Ditto.

This is exactly why I ended up with my ex. He was the first non-creepy, non-socially stunted guy I met in four years. Of course I fell in love. He saved me from all the weirdos.

Holy Geeze, I really did want to be rescued! From the insane.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

You Take Your Car To Work

I'm sitting here thinking about my brother. Not the one I wrestle with, the silver tongued devil. He isn't evil, but that's how the moniker goes and who am I to mess with tradition? He is the funniest guy I know. Growing up, we had a normal sibling rivalry going and not much of a friendship. There was a time, just out of high school, when we were always together. We had a mutual friend that passed away and though unspoken, we found a lot of comfort in each others company. At least that is what I got out of it. You'd have to ask him for his side of the story. Whatever individual reasons we had doesn't really matter. The point is that we bonded. He started hanging out more with my crew which consisted of semi-conservative, young adults from church. Their religion wouldn't really be important except we spent a lot of time shocking them with our inappropriateness.

In addition to the cussing and the sarcastic, stinging wit, there were a lot of incest jokes. It didn't bother us of course. But, to watch the rest of them squirm could make me giggle for hours. It was like they were a little worried. They would laugh, but it was that nervous sort of titter that only the Christians have. At one point a line was crossed. I don't really remember what was said or who said it. I do remember crickets chirping and all of a sudden becoming very uncomfortable. I believe he declared that horse dead while I put the clubs away. So, we found another way to entertain. Again, we mostly entertained ourselves and made others a little uncomfortable because they didn't know how to respond.

We would randomly burst into a duet of
a silly little bridge in Surf Wax America by Weezer while in the company of large groups of people. We don't like the same kind of music, so I imagine it evolved from the fact that this was the only tape *cough* I mean cd we could play when we were in the car together. I can only assume these as facts because I remember him teaching me the lines and rehearsing together but not where the idea came from. I doubt it was initially meant to be sung in front of anyone else. But eventually we must have because it became a thing for one of us to start singing and the other to join in if they were within earshot. It was like a little, two person choir. Until I looked up the song just now, I thought that the bridge was repeated multiple times. Turns out Weezer sings it once. It was us who would sing it ten times.

First part:
You take your car to work, I'll take my board
And when you're out of fuel, I'm still afloat.

Second part:
All along the undertow, strengthening my torque
I'd never thought it'd come to this, now I can never go home.

Ahhh, the good times.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Everything for a Reason

Disclaimer: I wasn't going to post this because I thought my crazy inner workings would offend; opinions on higher powers often do that. As a concession, I generalized all the God parts so you will able to read the what without being distracted by the who.

Lately I have been making all of these amazing fruit smoothies with the weirdest ingredients. Seriously weird. I have tried cumin, dill, basil, BBQ sauce, tarragon, soy sauce and pepper. They have each worked. Each morning I practice focusing to clear my head from distractions. It is a meditative exercise to throw out my perceptions about flavors and try anything I want. I take time to think about every ingredient, its flavor, aroma (or odor), affect it will have, and amount that will enhance without overpowering the finished result. I am listening to the inspirations inside of me
instead of assuming I already know the outcome. Everything can work if balanced properly. Some things can even be neutralized. The results with the smoothies are incredible. The calming factor that it has given me is the miracle I've needed to get through 72 days with no income, no health and little sanity. Having this one small tangible thing where the outcome doesn't matter gives me something to hold on to when I have to face the big intangibles that do matter. Like my mortgage, my pain and my bed rest.

Yesterday I tried baking. It was crap. The grapefruit glaze was decent and workable, but the cakes were just awful. I was already crabby and irritated before I started. I felt completely disillusioned when nothing worked out after a couple of hours. I was intentionally going back to my kitchen experiment because I couldn't seem to focus on anything. I can't tell if the Adderall is giving me an afternoon drop in mood or if I am just tuckered out after trying to do so much after doing nothing for so long. Everything failed, even my iced coffee. How could coffee suck so much? It wasn't that it tasted bad, but my dissatisfied mood added its own unique, icky aftertaste.

As I was scraping all the crappy cakes into the garbage, I tried to Pollyanna it and neutralize the negative. I learned a bunch of things. I cooked the batter three different ways. So, I did make the batter correctly, but the flavor was still horrible;
I couldn't stand the whole grain rice flour. It tasted old and musky and it overpowered everything. I dumped that in the trash. What a phenomenal waste of time just to figure out I didn't like something. It is random failed scenarios like this that flash through my mind when confronted with a problem that needs solving. I always manage to recall a seemingly innocuous detail that helps me solve a different dilemma. But, I wanted yummy, buttery pancakes not an exercise in positivity and pieces to future puzzles.

In my inbox this morning, I find a Hungry Girl email flaunting a couple of pancake recipes. I can only shake my head in response to the mocking reminder. Mostly because I can't get the whole debacle out of my head. I don't understand why it didn't work. As I am reading the recipes, I see all the ingredients that I had sitting out on the counter yesterday but didn't use. They were RIGHT THERE! I had everything I needed, but no direction. Then I zoom in on one ingredient. Whole wheat flour. It hits me, if I hadn't thrown out the rice flour yesterday, I would have used it in this recipe instead of the regular whole wheat flour. I would have hated them too. Instead, there is a chance that I have finally stumbled onto a recipe to satisfy my reoccurring pancake cravings.

None of this matters in the grand scheme of things. I will survive just fine if these pancakes turn out like crap too. But, it is an object lesson reminding me I am not omniscient. Just because I don't see the answers, doesn't mean they aren't there. It is a tangible experience to get me through intangible times.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Your Princess is in Another Castle

This is the best break up line ever. Except if the person actually understood this line, I would be married to him instead of leaving him. Is that ironic? I can never figure out the exact definition of ironic. My understanding is that ironic is when the literal definition of something is the exact opposite of the what happens. Which would mean that "a free ride, once you've already paid" is ironic. I don't know why that word drives me so nuts. Mostly because by its own definition, I don't believe that it should actually exist. That word should self destruct upon realizing itself.

I am in this weird recovery phase where I sort of feel better so I finally want to do a bunch of stuff, but I still don't have the stamina to do it. Which leaves me feeling impotent and frustrated. I feel like I have so much to get done before I go to work on Monday, but I just can't make myself. Plus, the weather is gorgeous so I want to go enjoy it, but I have no motivation, so I just wander around the house all day. Which is the only thing I really have to be doing. I have to not sit all day long so that I can get used to not being a zombie. Blech. My poor brain is actually spinning because it thinks that it can achieve so much. Meanwhile, my body is vehemently disagreeing, and since my brain controls my mouth, my body's only communication is through my muscles. And let me tell you they are screaming, "No!" Holy Geeze, did I start talking about my aches and pains again. I am going to change my name to Shakes McGranny here pretty soon.

That's it, I am leaving the house tomorrow. I don't care if nothing gets done. I am going to find three dimensional entertainment or perish. Maybe I will stop random people on the street and ask them to tell me jokes. That ought to be entertaining for everyone involved. The local color here is entertaining in and of itself. When my mom visited, she informed me one afternoon after she walked home that she saw a guy peeing in an alley right before she spoke to a nice young man who had problems adjusting his nylons. Now, I don't have a problem with transvestites. I have a crush on Eddie Izzard. Even when he is in drag. Maybe more when he is in drag. It's just that I know my neighborhood, and I can assure you that this guy was not in Eddie's league. Like where I grew up we had a TV who used to run around in a dress with a mop for a wig. He was a nutjob. Not that the mop made him crazy, he was just a crazy in a mop. I'm pretty sure the guy my mom saw was more like mophead than Eddie.

So yeah, if I can just make it out of the house, I am sure something blog worthy will present itself.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Since I can't get out, my brain has obliged us by giving me another vivid dream.

It starts in a classroom upstairs in a theater type room. You were there, and you were there, and you were there! In other words, I recognized a crapload of people in this dream. My classmates are my high school graduating class, but I can only visualize the ones that were also in my 6th grade class. Everybody looks the same as I last remember seeing them, creating a weird age range. I am an adult. I know because I grabbed my purse to look for my city bus pass when class was over.

Instead of the pass, I discover the bananas I bought this week are spoiled. I am trying to figure out how they have gotten black spots while the stems are still green, when I find the three, old, rotten bananas on the very bottom of my purse. I throw out the old ones and the new bunch of five because they are spoiled. The new bunch of three aren't too bad so I keep them to freeze. In the bottom of my purse all that is left now are random cough drops and loose change covered in rotten banana. My hands are gross and I am not happy.

I get picked up by one of my previous managers. She drives to a souvenir shop in a flea market where all the stalls are mini log houses. It doesn't look like a place that would carry the blouse she is looking for, but she assures me that they have it because she called ahead. She tells us to look around at all the other shops and we will meet up later.

The dream then turned into a Lifetime movie about an eleven year old girl and her adult brother, who was mentally slow. I was just an observer.

Enter Sadistic Guy (SG). The girl and brother suddenly step from the flea market to SG's home in rural America. The little girl discovers that SG had abused the wife's invalid mother before they moved into their own home and is now beating the wife. It will only be a matter of time before he starts abusing the kids. The girl tries to get the wife to run away, but she refuses to help. In trying to save herself, she finds that the garage is the only way out. A montage of escape scenes ensue where the girl keeps trying to run away. As the door goes up we see him slowly revealed starting with his shoes. The girl is crouched on the floor waiting to run as soon as the door is high enough for her to pass under. Unfortunately she is looking back towards the house and never sees him standing there. He grabs her and takes her back into the house, always with a horribly evil leer on his face. She always had on different shoes, from flip flops to giant black rain rubbers.

She manages to get out to the front yard and talk to two guys in different sports cars and tries to get them to call 911. They tell her they can't because their New York cells will call the New York police instead of local police. I get so frustrated with their idiocy I become the girl in order to explain how 911 calls work. They tell me it is still no good because we are in the country and at this hour they would only reach an answering machine. Before I can tell them the situation, SG comes out of the house and kills both of them. I start running.

I pass the neighbor's home on the next hill because no one is home and find another house where I can see the older brother pacing in front of the window. Now that I am the little girl, I know that he is not really my brother. My parents had him come live with us because he had no where else to go. I start to go in, but another car stops and a man yells at me to not go in because the brother is the son of a murderer. His father left him the house when he died that is why he is now living there.

I try to get The Man (TM) to call 911 and he repeats the answering machine story. I tell him to call anyway so someone will come looking for us. He says he doesn't know the address of where we are, so he doesn't think it will help but calls. In the middle of leaving a message, he gets another call indicated by a flashing red light on the phone. I know that it is SG and yell at TM not to take the call. He won't listen because I am a little kid and switches over to the other line and starts shouting, "Who is this?" When he won't listen to me yelling at him to hang up, I turn and run.

When TM sees me run, he finally hangs up to come after me. I tell him that SG is coming; the 911 number must automatically call SG and that is how he got TM's number. He only called back to track the call and find us. I tell him that SG will now try to kill him and we have to get away. Before we can get into the car, we hear him driving around the corner. TM yells at me to run and hide while he deals with SG. I start running up these cliff like boulders that are all reddish brown like the southwest dessert mountains. I keep jumping from one to another trying to hide. Each one I jump to is higher and higher off of the ground.

SG drives around the corner, and looks up to see me. In my dream I get pissed because I refuse to get caught, so the scene rewinds and the boulder changes shape. I look for a place to hide. SG drives around the corner looks up and sees me. The dream rewinds five or six times before I am finally on a cliff that is really high up and has a crevice that I can slip into but can't be seen from down below. SG drives around the corner, looks up but can't see me this time and the dream continues. He starts badgering TM asking him where I am. The whole time they are circling TM's car. TM says he knows me and then says, "That B- stole my wallet when I pulled over to see if she needed a ride. That is why I called 911." He sticks to this story until the SG thinks it might be true. Then he pulls a freakin chainsaw out of his trunk and starts chasing TM with it. I am watching this and feel horrible because I am in the only place to hide, but TM won't lead him up to where I am so he has no where to run. He manages to lock himself in a wooden shed on stilts that is maybe 6 x 6.

I realize that SG will just light it on fire and in that moment, I jump into TM's body inside the shed. Through the cracks in the walls, I can see SG dousing the shed with gasoline. In my head I think that he will not hang around after the shed is on fire so if I can wait it out, I can get the little girl down from the cliff to help me. Apparently I realize that I can control both of these characters. Since I am inside his head I can see what a good person he is. I am impressed that even as the guy faces a gruesome death through fire, he doesn't say where the girl is to try and save himself.

All of a sudden the chainsaw comes through the side of the building. I leap out of the way and it disappears, only to cut through the building in a different location. I realize that he is just messing with me and is going to keep randomly thrusting the blade through the walls until he hits me. He is going in a clockwise pattern around the building, but soon he will cut in a different place trying to surprise me. When I realize that he can cut through the floor and ceiling, and that there might not be an escape, I try to reimagine the shelter to rewind the dream like I did with the rock. All of a sudden the blade comes through the wall behind me and cuts into the right side of my back. I wake up to a muscle spasm in the same place. Not a hurty one, just the muscles vibrating in reaction to the dream. It still feels a little weird.

Don't expect me to blog all my dreams I don't want them to reveal any secrets facts about me. You know, like I am actually a psychotic. Or that I am now taking prescription speed. Wait, I talked about that yesterday.

Who am I kidding, I have no secrets.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Adderall is Icky

That is my initial impression. So far I have experienced, pressured speech, intense mania, jitters and vomiting. I just spent an hour typing out a blog that I realize is contrived and forced. So, I'm not posting it. The thing is, I think that this medication is on the right track. I do feel better now. Tired, but better. That could just be the mono. I am going to ride this out for a month to see what it does for me. I may just need to adjust. And it wouldn't be fair to judge it fully until the mono actually goes away.

Don't fret about the vomiting. I have a feeling I am going to experience the decreased appetite side effect. When I was younger if I tried to make myself eat when I wasn't hungry, I would gag. I used to have to eat a meal as fast as I could so that I could get as much in as possible before my throat closed up. Then when my metabolism slowed down and I actually gained an appetite, I still ate the same way, but I never got full. So, I gained 20 pounds and had to relearn how and what to eat. Basically I am well versed in eating habits, so I have full confidence that I will manage to work my way around this little snag.

I have got to get out of the house. I feel like l am 80 discussing all of my medical problems and eating habits. I even used the word pocketbook the other day in a conversation with a delivery guy. The minute I said it, I had the sudden flash of what my life was going to look like when I am old and a shut in. I haven't blogged for days, because there isn't anything to blog about. I am supposed to be getting out of the house and increasing my stamina, so maybe something will happen in my journey and give me some material.

If not you are going to be subjected to a lecture on body pain in great detail. Here's rooting for my life to come back!