Like Water Off A Duck’s Ass

That’s how many of the things that would bother me before feel now. I’m almost wishing Sparring Partner was taking ADs as well and then maybe he wouldn’t blow his fuse every time Doodicus opened his mouth.

I can’t help but wonder if I had done this three years ago, would I have lost my job? Isn’t that crazy? What ifs still haunt me, but it’s been a long time since I thought about my ex-boss in a way that wouldn’t be considered premeditation in a court. Obviously part of it is finding a very comparable job after two and half years of looking, looking, and looking, but I no longer miss where I worked or who I worked with.

I’m still trying to square out the sleep issues. The ambien gets me to sleep, but doesn’t keep me there. I’m tossing and turning by 3:00 am. NOT taking the ambien means a little longer getting to sleep, but I’m once again tossing and turning by 3:00 am. I’ll keep my eyes open (literally?) for other options to the suppository-sized gelcaps of melatonin from my last post. I admit that I reread the instructions to make sure they WEREN’T suppositories.

ADs: not for everyone, but seriously? If you’re a hot, angry mess of tears and rage, I would strongly recommend.

Speaking of a hot, angry mess, Sparring Partner and I are considering finishing our basement. We didn’t when we built the house just because we had no idea how we wanted it finished. We have about 2,000 sq ft to work with and plumbing for one bathroom and a kitchenette already dropped in addition to one large bedroom space already framed but not walled.

SP said that he’s going to have a dropped ceiling installed. I said “you’re fucking insane!” That’s only the first of hundreds of disagreements this next adventure holds for us. I also want heated flooring and sound barriers installed in the ceiling and walls since HE wants to have a media center. Aaaaannnnnd….? yeah, that’s all I’ve got in mind so far.

Do you have a finished basement? What should we consider? What should we avoid? It’s a walk-out to the backyard and patio. This is the view from the outside, except now there’s grass and we decided the propane tank would look better about 100 yards away.

That Woman Isn’t Asleep; She’s Unconscious Having Choked On Her Sleep Aide!

Either I’m a moron or you guys are assholes. Take a look at this item I bought at Walgreens that has 3mg of Melatonin PER. DAY!!

No where on the packaging does it say that the 3mg is via TWO of the liqui-caps, but I figured based on the image, I would have to throw back two. Now I’m not a good pill taker. I’m a gagger. I thought these look similar to the Advil gel-caps I take on occasion, so how bad could it be, right?

“What’s wrong with those,” you ask? Should I mention that the cap is as big as a salad plate? OK, so I’m exaggerating, but those fuckers are HUGE!

“Just HOW big are they,” you ask?

You sure to ask a lot of questions, you nosy bitches.

Could you swallow a AA battery? I ask in return.

Why don’t I just throw some BBQ sauce on them, hand out toothpicks and call them “lil’ smokies”?!

Viva La Columbia

I have been very fortunate over the years to have formed bonds with dozens of bloggers. Many no longer actively blog but we keep in touch via Facebook or Twitter (and now G+). I’ve even had the honor of meeting a few, including the only blogger I know that admits living in North Dakota.

You might know her, too. Her name is Erin. She use to write at Viva La Columbia, documenting the adoption of her two sons from Columbia. After she brought home her second son, her personal story got a little too complicated, even to blog about, so she stopped writing. Sadly, she later told me that she and her husband divorced.

Off and on over the next couple of years we’d touch base with each other, and eventually she started dating a very sweet man who doted on the boys. And then?

Well, eight months ago she sent me a shocker of a message. After years of dealing with PCOS and infertility, which led to the adoptions, she was pregnant for the first time!

I would now like to congratulate Erin, who gave birth to a beautiful boy earlier this week. My heart swells with joy for my friend who is now raising three amazing sons with the help of a loving partner!

Today I’m Full of I Don’t Give a Hoots

After six days on paxil, I’m almost hesitant to admit that something seems to be working. Hesitant because I have an incredible knack of jinxing myself, but I’ve gone on this far.

Before I talk about why I think it’s having a positive affect on me, I want to talk about the ambien, which is seriously trying to make render me as senseless as a box of hair. I started by taking a whole pill but that left me woozy the next day. The following night I skipped it. The third night I was laying in bed thinking, "I don’t need a sleep aid! I can fall asleep just fine on my own!" until about an hour passed with me tossing and turning before getting out of bed and taking half a tablet (scissors work pretty well for that).

Sure it puts me to sleep in a snap but by 3:30 – 4:00 a.m. I’m awake AND exhausted. By the time my day starts I feel like hell. I feel like my clients are staring at me as one eye slowly meanders to the left. Just the ONE eye so they are glancing away uncomfortably, not sure of which gaze to follow.

What sucks is that by bedtime, that fuzzy feeling has faded and I feel wide-awake. No more ambien for me, OK?!

As for the paxil, I noticed I’m not as anxious or irritable. Pretty miraculous considering I’m PMSing. Doodicus’s whining and arguing doesn’t set my teeth as far on edge as it use to. When I’m notified that a client has a problem with their account, I don’t feel my ass-cheeks clench up in defense. I’m not as quick to reply with my scripted instructions, which is a good thing. I’m waiting for them to complete their questions, to let them inhale again, before jumping in.

While I am feeling better as far as the ADs go, my husband is not. He’s annoyed that I would take the first thing offered to me; that I wouldn’t seek out a psychoanalyses; that I would dare trust a *gasp!* Physician Assistant with my mental health. Now on the other hand, if the PA had prescribed me a little blue pill that made me horny ALL. THE. TIME. he would think that PA was a freaking genius! With the aid of medication, I can just poo-pooh Sparring Partner with a dismissive wave of my hand and walk away. A week ago I would’ve punched him in the nuts.

OK, so I’m exaggerating, on both ends. It’s not THAT good and it’s not THAT bad.

Will keep you updating with all the scintillating details.

P.S. My G+ account is via my "real.name" gmail account if you are looking for me. I’m trying to switch it over to thismamasaid, but in trying to do so I gave myself a brain aneurysm. I can also be found as one of the probable hundreds under my "handle": D D. That’s first name D and last name D. Yes, I’m re-energizing my old identity for purely selfish purposes as many still know me by that in addition to my old avatar, the boxing babies.

Gee Plus

Because I can’t get enough of social media, I’ve found myself sucked in by Google+ (or G+) if you be wit’it.

I like it. At first I didn’t because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. A help video? They had a help video for new users? PSHAW!

Let’s first hit upon hat I don’t like about it: going through facebook and twitter acceptance all over again. There are several bloggers and even FB friends I have added to my circles that have yet to reciprocate. I can’t squelch the paranoia that makes me think that those people weren’t able to fob me off earlier and weren’t making the same mistake twice.

I know, boo hoo, right?

What I DO like is its flexibility in sharing posts, updates, photos, thoughts, etc. I can post something publicly and share it based on location, finding other local updates; or I can share it easily with just family. Now of course, you can do that on FB as well, but you have to click this, then click that, and then type this and type that, and click again…In addition to being paranoid, I’m also lazy. G+ is the lazy person’s social network.

Of course I will talk it up because I want to add you to my Circles. If you want to try G+ out, but are waiting for a coveted invite (FYI: they are NOT limiting invites…), let me know what email you want me to send it to by either leaving a comment or emailing me directly at thimamasaid (at) gmail (dot) com. I would love to see more of you there!

It’s a Better Day, Relatively Speaking

Today is a little bit better. I only took half of the Ambien and in doing so there’s no way I’m going to make those suckers last twice as long if I completely obliterate one side in trying to cut it in half. I’m going to have to finesse the fine art of halving the tiny pill or end up with a bottle full of ambien dust that’ll have to be snorted. And I don’t think it’s made for that intent, while on the other hand I’m sure some moron has tried.

I’m going to bitch about something else, OK? I’ll have to get all this out of my system before the ADs work their magic and I end up just shrugging my shoulders in bored indifference when this kind of shit comes up in the future. Let’s talk health care insurance.

I work in a medical office as a coordinator. I won’t get anymore detailed on that but it’ll explain why I have to talk to people like the one I’m going to mention in the following tirade:

If you had a fairly major surgery performed a year ago and now are finally getting statements billing you for the balance after your insurance finally paid, don’t come whining and pissing and moaning to me about how long it took. Insurance companies are fuckers. They will try all kinds of random shit to keep the benefits in their company’s coffers including "losing the claim", "sending it for review", "requesting medical documentation", "confirming student status," etc., etc. And while YOU (and I don’t mean you-YOU, I mean the policy holder who called me up with a bug up her ass), have every right to be concerned over how long it took your insurance to pay out benefits, it’s not like you can act all surprised that you are getting a bill.

Did you think the medical office just "forgot" to bill you? Did you never wonder what your ever insurance paid? I know damned well that if we get a request or a denial in the office, you got a copy of it, too, so that should have been a little reminder to follow up and see what’s going on.

And finally, just because you are friends with one of the staff here and a cousin to another, don’t think you can call me and pull the ole’, "Well, next time I guess I’ll have to go elsewhere!" bullshit and think I’ll woo you or apologize in hopes you won’t. I say good riddance. My doctor will say good riddance, ESPECIALLY since you are a cousin/friend of the staff. Blow as hard as you want, you are not going to get me to apologize on the behalf of our office for the incompetency of your insurance company or the fact you didn’t take responsibility for the services you sought out and were provided.

Suck it to the marrow, Ho-bag.

One Day at a Time

Tuesday night I took my first Ambien and first Paxil.

Wednesday morning I woke up with the kind of hangover that reminded me of my much younger days when I went through a different kind of drug experimentation. And not in a very good way at all. I wanted to puke.

I vaguely remember waking up in the middle of the night for a bathroom trip. And I do mean VAGUELY.

Most of the day Wednesday I felt nauseous and lost some water weight due to intestinal distress, which my PA warned me about. The anticipation really didn’t do the eventual event much justice. I didn’t even dare to have my cup of espresso! It wasn’t until late afternoon that I finally started to feel considerably better.

Wednesday night I decided to skip the Ambien and just take the Paxil. That’s the one I need to get my body adjusted to (if it WILL adjust), plus I need to rule out which one was making me feel very much fucked up.

Thursday morning was rough, but nothing like Wednesday morning. I still avoided my coffee but no sudden evacuations (Are you catching my drift or do I need to snow again?). My brain feels distracted, befuddled. My concentration is shit right now. My eyeballs hurt. I had to develop an xray and as I stood in the dark room with just the red light on I teetered and swayed even though I am wearing flats because I felt unbalanced.

God I hope Day 3 is better. They say that it can take a couple weeks to feel better. I just think that after a couple of weeks you get use to the crappy side affects and that in itself can make you happier, not that it’s chasing away the Depression.