“Isolation is a self-defeating dream” Carlos Salinas de Gortari
Yet here we be, Carlos my boy, living the dream.
Covid-19 has brought us to our knees. True, some of those knees will be cushioned in the downy softness of reams of excess toilet paper – and why toilet paper, people??!- but only the lucky few who managed to knock Grandma off her walker and wrestle it from her boney grasp will discover its magical natural healing properties.
The Answer Could Be In The Three-Ply
I’m feeling pretty self-defeated right now, but that’s only because I spent most of yesterday, all of last night, and it’s now 6:55 a.m., and I STILL haven’t figured out how to work the laptop I’ve owned for over five years.
I spent three hours and $1.99 for an app I’ll never use again trying to figure out why my Mac wasn’t downloading my Exchange mail which I don’t even use anymore. Then gave up and went back to my website where I spent the rest of the long, dark hours trying to unscrew up what I’d screwed up months earlier, to no avail.
Someone please dab the sweat off my brow with some Charmin as it apparently holds the secrets of the universe wrapped tightly around that unassuming cardboard roll on which it sits. And wipe down my laptop while you’re at it.
No Trouble Self-Isolating Here
John took Greyson to FLL this morning from which she will fly back to AZ, then go on a hitch to Utah in two days with ACE. She was visiting us for 10 days, which turned into 13 days because she had a bad feeling about the flight she was supposed to take on day 10, and so I got the pleasure of her company for a few more days.
Now Tsuki and I are sad because she’s gone.
John will be back soon, though. I’m more likely to catch the virus from him than anyone else. I’ve only got to go out to get my meds refilled on Wednesday. I’m only afraid I’ll get so used to being in the house all day, I’ll never want to venture out again.
Physician Heal Thyself
Speaking of pharmacy day, my psychiatrist retired, and nobody else is willing to keep me on the same meds I’ve been on for over 10 years, you know, the ones that kept me sane and periodically motivated? So now I’ve got to find somebody who won’t completely change everything. I’m already half off my rocker, a complete med change could do me in completely.
The last Doctor I saw wasn’t even willing to wean me off some of the stronger meds because he said he didn’t want to be responsible for me! In. Case. I. Died. While weaning off.
So now I’ve made two separate Doctor’s appointments with two different Doctors just so I can try to find someone to treat me before my refills run out. I have a bad feeling about this, so I’m going to try to wean myself off at least the controlled substances for the next two months.
This should not be happening to me.
It’s made me a very unhappy camper.
Why in God’s name do they start you on these meds if they know there’s a chance of this happening? I’ve been perfectly stable on my current regime, but I’ll do it myself and wean off every med if I have to.
Wish me luck, and/or a sympathetic Doctor.
The next two months are going to be very uncomfortable for me.
Dusty Old Instruments
I had just started three new projects in addition to my blogging class, too. Now I feel like that picture above, and my motivation has sunk like the Titanic. I’m already a month behind on the blogging class, the stock market tanked (second and third projects), and I don’t know if I’ll be motivated enough to finish the classes I was taking to learn how to sell a product on Amazon for profit. These were supposed to be my retirement earnings. I even set up an LLC already.
I used to be young, hot, slim, and relatively drugless.
Of course I was also a blazing bitch with mood swings all the live long day and an inability to concentrate on anything because of my ADD.
I mention the hot and slim because I went to Publix yesterday, and of course the meat case was empty – but two guys were wrapping meat to put out in the cases. I noticed some people asking them through their little window thingy if there were certain cuts of meat available, and some people got what they wanted, so I asked if he had pot roast.
‘You’ll have to wait 20 minutes until we get it out there,” he snapped at me.
Then little miss thing and her hot-bodied self asked him for chicken breasts. And you know what his response to her was? “Would you like them with the skin on, or do you want me to make them skinless for you?”
I never did get my roast.
Old, Fat, And Post-Menopausal, But Still Proud
Maybe menopause has cured me. Not of my ADD. I forgot about that roast in the time it took my cart to swing around. But, I can be pretty sure my Adderall days are over judging from the reaction the first Doctor I went to see had, so I’ll just have to deal with that.
Poor John’s going to have to bear the brunt of this medical mishap.
And My Website’s Still Wonky, Like Tsuki’s Eye
I gave up trying to fix it, and wrote this blog post instead. And if I get Covid-19, that’ll just be the proverbial icing on the cake.
But I will not give up!
I’m making lemonade.
And this afternoon when Tsuki goes to get her eye rechecked, the vet’s gonna say it’s just allergies that made her look like she’d gone 18 rounds with Rocky Balboa.
Seriously, it does look much better than it did when I came back from Mooresville, NC, where I helped my sister for three weeks with Dad who is still alive and kicking and wetting the bed every night, and everything else during the day.
Once again, Dad has defied the odds. He’s 86 now, peeing all over everything, but still alive.
Be Alive! Be Safe, And Mind Your Social Distancing
This, too, shall pass. Stay strong. You are beautiful and I love you all.