5 Unrelated Topics for the Price of 1
It's October in three hours. Does that make it fall? Today felt like fall. I wore my woolie and shivered.
I'm a nutjob off of these meds. I'm in Delaware for a couple days, from Nashville, by way of Cincinnati (sheesh), and I forgot my Cymbalta. Today was my third day without it, and it's obvious my body was attached to it. ABRUPT-WITHDRAWAL SYMPTOMS! And I have a slew of them. I want to yell at Julie for everything. I actually have been yelling at the puppy. I've been having bizarre, very intense dreams. I'm a lunatic- I got mad at my dad, then started laughing, and I couldn't figure out why, and when he asked me why, I switched to crying, then laughed some more, then cried some more, laughing, and then crying again. I hate it! It's exhausting. And I'm getting really bad brain shivers. Brain shivers are....hard to describe. It's like you kind of start to feel dizzy, and it feels like your brain is starting to shake inside your skull, and then it speeds up and does a little, well, shiver, almost like a little electric shock went through it. Then it slows down again and then it stops "moving" and then you're back to normal. It makes my vision vibrate, too, and I kind of feel like I'm going to pass out. At first they weren't that bad, and were just in my head, but the longer I went without the medicine, the harder they got, and now the shiver kind of spreads outwards and shoots down the tops of my arms, too. I hate them. They suck really bad. Blech. The brain shocks and the crazy moodiness are the worst parts.
Luckily, I got a new script this evening, soooo, I don't know how long it's going to take before this stuff kicks back in, but hopefully it'll be SOON. Everything makes me want to cry all the time, and I feel miserable.
So I think Henry finally dumped me all the way out of his life. Hmm. I'd expect with all this drug mania to be wickedly sobby-dobby over this, but I'm not. I'm kind of numb to it. [brain shock] Which is cool. Oh, I'll probably come back around at some point and be a nut over it, 'cause that's how I roll (why did I grow up in the ghetto all of a sudden?). But as of today, I really don't mind. Woot. (Maybe because I've spent the past couple days crying heartily about a bunch of other stuff, and there just wasn't enough room between "Operator," the "It's nice to be home" Buehler's slogan, and the Disneyland Sing-Along video to cry over anything else. Ha.)
In court today my "misdemeanor" got dropped from a 1st-degree to a minor --let's pause for a moment to jump up and [brain shock] down and scream while confetti spontaneously rains from the ceiling. good? okay-- I gave them 150 bucks and beat it out of there, never (hopefully) to return. THANK GOD! Seriously! Could there have been a better outcome? Well, other than them dismissing the case entirely? I don't think so. My public defender was a SAINT of Mount Rushmore-esque proportions. Yay for my public defender! (Who's name I clearly and sadly do not know.)
Over the past week, Adonis has completely forgotten what the litterbox is for. He likes to jump in and out of it. He likes to sit in it. But pissing and shitting? That, Angela, is for the carpet, duh. I'm getting very, very frustrated with him, even though the regression was partly my fault for not being very attentive during all the moving around. Arrgh. I want to pay someone else to litter train him, and possibly teach him how to come, sit, stay, off, drop it, and all that, too. But I don't have any money, so I'd consider prostituting myself for this service. Just kidding. Kind of. I feel guilty for not wanting to train him. But I just don't want to anymore. I've had him for a month, and while his tiny brain and bladder haven't caught on, I certainly have, and I'm sick of it. Irrational, I know. But I'm getting a little impatient. So I'm a bad pet owner. Blame it on the Great Discontinuation Debacle of '08. I'm going to.
The Franklin County court building is one of the trashiest places I've ever been. Actually, the building and employees are perfectly normal, what you'd expect. But nearly everyone else in the building... Phew. All the scum of Columbus, all the people who swear in front of their children, all the strung-out addicts, every trashy, unsavory creature you can think of are all gathered in one place. Their extreme dearth of class is made even more obtuse by their proximity to all the government employees in suits and ties, with shiny black briefcases, or pencil skirts and high heels. It's bizarre. Today I overheard a woman telling the guy next to her, whom she didn't know, that her daughter's father is in jail. Well, actually he'd gotten out in April, but now he's back in again. Because he's a fucking idiot. Oh, and a sex offender. Because, and I quote, "his first babymama was underage." She actually said "babymama." The guy next to her said something that seemed like he had understanding for the whole "knocking up a minor" thing, so the girl said, "Well, she was 14." WHY WOULD YOU TELL A STRANGER THAT YOU SLEPT WITH A MAN WHO IMPREGNATED A 14-YEAR-OLD?!?! That makes Bret look like an upstanding citizen. And the whole time she was swearing at her daughter, who couldn't have been more than two, because the little girl wouldn't sit still. Classy, Columbus. Reeeal classy.
Okay, I think that's all the random news I can come up with for tonight. I'll probably be back tomorrow waxing emo over boys who don't love me, like usual. [brain shock] Hey, at least I can laugh at myself, right?
'Night, void.
I'm a nutjob off of these meds. I'm in Delaware for a couple days, from Nashville, by way of Cincinnati (sheesh), and I forgot my Cymbalta. Today was my third day without it, and it's obvious my body was attached to it. ABRUPT-WITHDRAWAL SYMPTOMS! And I have a slew of them. I want to yell at Julie for everything. I actually have been yelling at the puppy. I've been having bizarre, very intense dreams. I'm a lunatic- I got mad at my dad, then started laughing, and I couldn't figure out why, and when he asked me why, I switched to crying, then laughed some more, then cried some more, laughing, and then crying again. I hate it! It's exhausting. And I'm getting really bad brain shivers. Brain shivers are....hard to describe. It's like you kind of start to feel dizzy, and it feels like your brain is starting to shake inside your skull, and then it speeds up and does a little, well, shiver, almost like a little electric shock went through it. Then it slows down again and then it stops "moving" and then you're back to normal. It makes my vision vibrate, too, and I kind of feel like I'm going to pass out. At first they weren't that bad, and were just in my head, but the longer I went without the medicine, the harder they got, and now the shiver kind of spreads outwards and shoots down the tops of my arms, too. I hate them. They suck really bad. Blech. The brain shocks and the crazy moodiness are the worst parts.
Luckily, I got a new script this evening, soooo, I don't know how long it's going to take before this stuff kicks back in, but hopefully it'll be SOON. Everything makes me want to cry all the time, and I feel miserable.
So I think Henry finally dumped me all the way out of his life. Hmm. I'd expect with all this drug mania to be wickedly sobby-dobby over this, but I'm not. I'm kind of numb to it. [brain shock] Which is cool. Oh, I'll probably come back around at some point and be a nut over it, 'cause that's how I roll (why did I grow up in the ghetto all of a sudden?). But as of today, I really don't mind. Woot. (Maybe because I've spent the past couple days crying heartily about a bunch of other stuff, and there just wasn't enough room between "Operator," the "It's nice to be home" Buehler's slogan, and the Disneyland Sing-Along video to cry over anything else. Ha.)
In court today my "misdemeanor" got dropped from a 1st-degree to a minor --let's pause for a moment to jump up and [brain shock] down and scream while confetti spontaneously rains from the ceiling. good? okay-- I gave them 150 bucks and beat it out of there, never (hopefully) to return. THANK GOD! Seriously! Could there have been a better outcome? Well, other than them dismissing the case entirely? I don't think so. My public defender was a SAINT of Mount Rushmore-esque proportions. Yay for my public defender! (Who's name I clearly and sadly do not know.)
Over the past week, Adonis has completely forgotten what the litterbox is for. He likes to jump in and out of it. He likes to sit in it. But pissing and shitting? That, Angela, is for the carpet, duh. I'm getting very, very frustrated with him, even though the regression was partly my fault for not being very attentive during all the moving around. Arrgh. I want to pay someone else to litter train him, and possibly teach him how to come, sit, stay, off, drop it, and all that, too. But I don't have any money, so I'd consider prostituting myself for this service. Just kidding. Kind of. I feel guilty for not wanting to train him. But I just don't want to anymore. I've had him for a month, and while his tiny brain and bladder haven't caught on, I certainly have, and I'm sick of it. Irrational, I know. But I'm getting a little impatient. So I'm a bad pet owner. Blame it on the Great Discontinuation Debacle of '08. I'm going to.
The Franklin County court building is one of the trashiest places I've ever been. Actually, the building and employees are perfectly normal, what you'd expect. But nearly everyone else in the building... Phew. All the scum of Columbus, all the people who swear in front of their children, all the strung-out addicts, every trashy, unsavory creature you can think of are all gathered in one place. Their extreme dearth of class is made even more obtuse by their proximity to all the government employees in suits and ties, with shiny black briefcases, or pencil skirts and high heels. It's bizarre. Today I overheard a woman telling the guy next to her, whom she didn't know, that her daughter's father is in jail. Well, actually he'd gotten out in April, but now he's back in again. Because he's a fucking idiot. Oh, and a sex offender. Because, and I quote, "his first babymama was underage." She actually said "babymama." The guy next to her said something that seemed like he had understanding for the whole "knocking up a minor" thing, so the girl said, "Well, she was 14." WHY WOULD YOU TELL A STRANGER THAT YOU SLEPT WITH A MAN WHO IMPREGNATED A 14-YEAR-OLD?!?! That makes Bret look like an upstanding citizen. And the whole time she was swearing at her daughter, who couldn't have been more than two, because the little girl wouldn't sit still. Classy, Columbus. Reeeal classy.
Okay, I think that's all the random news I can come up with for tonight. I'll probably be back tomorrow waxing emo over boys who don't love me, like usual. [brain shock] Hey, at least I can laugh at myself, right?
'Night, void.
posted by Angela at 8:16 PM
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