*Update: I am going to take a half dose of the antibiotics on days I have to leave the house and have committed myself to the full dose on days I don't have to go anywhere. I wish I could stop them, but being raised by a nurse I can't do it -- she would (as the old cliche goes) poop twice and die. Come back from the dead and poop twice and die again. So to spare her the trouble I am just going to suck it up and do the right thing.
Thank the gods and all false idols for that! I was getting tired of the foul stench of low tide that came with my rotten mood. My little sister and I made up. I apologized for being a warty rag ass and she apologized for treating me like a servant and agreed to try to pay me back on a more regular basis. Her bf/f didn't know what to do when we were fighting; he didn't realize that she and I have been fighting since she was 2 years old, as my mother says and she should know, so we know how to fight and make up. He was scared of me, like the wrong word or look would bring my wrath down on him and would barely make eye contact with me. He is a very passive person and not at all as vocal as my sisters and I. I'm not a silent bitch. When I am mad I make no bones about it -- if you piss me off I say so. There is no gray area there with me. I told him so, so that he would know where he stands with me because I will tell him when his life may be in danger. A few other highlights from my boring life to make you feel better about yours:
*I can't take these antibiotics anymore. I usually am very strict about taking the full prescription of antibiotics but these are killing me. I think the sickness was preferable to this. I know the dangers of not taking all the medicine, but this is ripping up my guts. We were running around yesterday and had to go order my little sister's birthday cake (tomorrow being her 30th and she is boo-hooing about it. Being 34, I have no pity. The 30's are not that bad.). I skidded into Walmart's parking lot on two wheels, raced out of the car before I could even turn it off and had to push women and children out of my way to get to the restroom. It used to always annoy me that the restrooms at Walmart smelled like old lady poo all the time, and I had/have a theory that they go to Walmart to pinch one off because they don't want to stink up their own houses. Well, yesterday I had to join the ranks of old-ladies-stinking-up-Walmart-so-their-own-houses-don't-stink. Although mine was not premeditated. If I had gotten pulled over I would have had to let loose on the side of the road and would have gladly taken my ticket for indecent exposure over doing it in my car. I have too many things to do today and do not feel like strapping a bucket to my ass to get them done, that and they give me a horrible taste in my mouth and indigestion. I will take the risks of not finishing my antibiotics even though my mom will have a fit. Its just not worth it.
*I am so glad Denver Refashionista has gotten some meds for her depression and anxiety. Everyone in my family (except my mother) has a problem with depression. My sisters' get the kind of depression that makes them lethargic and not want to get out of bed. My depression only operates with anxiety so I can't relate to the lethargic kind. I get horrible panic attacks that make life torture, and unless you have had one, it is hard to imagine the sheer terror of one. My arms could fall off, but if I'm having a panic attack I wouldn't notice. I never knew there were meds for such things and suffered with them for years before I finally broke down and saw a doctor -- after not sleeping or eating for almost a week. People can say whatever they want to say about these meds being "brain-washing" and such, but anyone who knows me knows I am not brain washed in any way. These meds took away the overwhelming anxiety and depression so I could live again without irrational fears ruling my life. I could sing the praises of Paxil and Xanax all day and never get tired of it. And I am not an addict either (I've heard that one too -- that if you take Xanax you will become an addict and end up giving b.j.s to get more.). I have been taking the same dose of Xanax for almost 7 years and so far I haven't had to suck d*ck for more.
*I've been adopted by my little sister's/Princess's dog. This really has nothing to do with MS or anything like that, but it is currently a hot topic in this house. I didn't want another dog. I have a dog. I have a 7.5 year old yellow lab that is my baby. He has grand mal seizures that he has had since a tiny puppy and I don't leave him with anyone without a list of how to handle them and how to treat him. I have never hit him, at most I may push his butt with my foot when he is really naughty, but that is rare. When we were doing foster care the kids could climb on him and pull his fur and he would only move away when it was too much, but if a strange man comes around he will growl and not let them near me. He is so protective of me that one time when a man was walking down our street, he sat on me, pinning me down, until the guy was gone. So I am perfectly content with my baby who is so spoiled he cannot lay his precious golden pelt on the floor but must be on the furniture or in a bed. My little sister/Princess wanted a dog like that for themselves, a dog to sleep in their beds at night and be dedicated to them, so they got a corgi for themselves. I prefer big dogs; little dogs aren't really my thing, but Princess loves corgies so that is what they got. They named him Widget, which I wouldn't have picked out, but, hey its not my dog. He sleeps in my bed and protects my chastity all night -- he won't let anything on my bed when I'm in there. Where ever I go, there he is, under foot. And God forbid I close the bathroom door to shower or use the toilet, he will be at the door scratching and whining. If someone tries to take him off my bed he growls at them and comes running back to me as soon as they let him go. I really did not want 2 dogs but now I have a guardian to make sure I keep to my vow of celibacy -- not sure how thrilled I am about that. I decided that since he adopted me, he needs a better name. Because he has such short little legs and is such a little sh*t still (only a few months old. We are still working on making him mind) I have renamed him Midget Poo Poo Platter. It was originally Midget Sh*t Head, but Princess can't say sh*t, so I changed it. I'm glad animals like me, but damn, sometimes I feel like the pied piper who gets followed around by a herd of pets.
That is all that is going on with me, but it is preferable to being in such a foul mood I pollute everyone and everything around me. Today my goal is to get my errands done and get to others' blogs to see what they are up to, hopefully your lives are at high tide. Oh, I almost forgot, I am thrilled that Ms. Brain Cheese is back (I originally typed Brian -- big difference). What a long, dry, serious time it is without her. I need her humor and unique outlook to spice up my dull life!
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