So anyway, Smokey is one of the happiest fish I’ve ever seen. He’s in a 10-gallon tank all by himself and all he does all day is swim back and forth, back and forth, in circles, dancing up and down the glass, etc. I mean, he’s practically giddy. Smokey’s unnamed neighbor in a 2-gallon glass bowl isn’t doing so well and I think he’s on his last legs. I keep vowing to let my fish die off and not replace them, but it seems I have at least two at any given time. Two’s manageable at least.
Better go warm up some cheese enchiladas and refried beans. I’m supposed to go see Anne tomorrow. She lives a good hour away. I’m gonna have to be careful because she can be cranky and tactless; I’ll have to try to not take it personally. She’s made disparaging remarks about antidepressant medications, although in reference to someone else, and not to me (she knows I’m on them). Her attitude is, and I quote, “Everyone in life has had bad experiences; get over it.” I’d say she doesn’t understand, but I’m not about to debate it with her. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m not thrilled to be on antidepressants, but this is the first time in my adulthood that I can function. So until they come up with something else, it’s what I’ve got.
Poop. Got a letter from my rep at the Vocational Rehab department at the VA. To back up, I’m a veteran, obviously, and I’m on thirty percent disability for my depression. You know, it’s only the past three or four years that I’ve taken my depression seriously instead of writing it off as a shameful personal failing. Anyway, the Vocational Rehab program is in place to help people like me. However, their red tape is … what you’d expect from any government organization (now there’s an oxymoron for you). Their standards have been hard for me, too. I understand that they don’t want people sponging off their program indefinitely. But I find them, or at least my rep, to be unsympathetic to the fact that I have difficulty getting it together (low motivation, lack of energy, muddled thinking, forgotten appointments, etc.). Hello, I’m depressed! Whatever. Last year, when I fucked up so bad, I was told more or less that I didn’t qualify, yada yada yada, and I haven’t really bothered with them since. So anyway, today I get this letter from my rep, saying that she’d scheduled an appointment for the 29th. Surprised the hell out of me, I didn’t expect to hear another word out of her. I’m halfway inclined to just phone her and say, “If you’re just going to tell me that I’m not in the program, I’d just as soon save myself the trip.” However, good luck getting her on the phone. I’ll just go to the damn appointment, it’s the only way I’ll get to contact her.
Oh, and check this out: I got a letter from the department of English at my university, inviting me to join the local chapter of Sigma Tau Delta, the International Honor Society for English majors. There’s a one-time fee of $60. I don’t know what to make of this; I’ve never been invited to anything before. Are they fer real? And if so, what good will it do me?
Friday, March 17, 2006
Guess whoever I was piggypacking on got wise—my shit is shut down. And the campus lab is closed as if it were a holiday or something. *snort* And I’m not gonna blog from Anne’s house. Even if I were to clear my tracks, her husband knows about computers, and I can’t leave any clues. My own computer acumen is spotty at best, and has deteriorated since I left the workplace. I know my way around applications like Werrrrd, but not operations.
Operating on a sleep deficit, when it’s usually a surplus, so I’m getting hopped up on Wellbutrin, coffee and a B comlex capsule. Glad I got any sleep at all.
Guess there’s no point in dilly-dallying.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Had a really nice time at Anne’s yesterday. She was even so kind as to feed me—twice! We had fun chatting and whatnot. We don’t yack about just dolls, of course. She and I are both liberal-minded and feel that world is spinning out of control, which depresses us so we play with our dolls. Her husband is shy and comes across as a mild-mannered engineer, but he has an acerbic sense of humor and an irreverent “screw the man” attitude that cracks me up.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Sitting with some hipsters in Border’s, eating a mudpie cheesecake (breakfast of champions) and drinking Seattle’s Best Coffee (which was bought out by Starbuck’s so who cares). I’m here with my Mac, trying my best to pretend that I can get onto their WiFi. I never heard anyone mention before that you have to have a T-Moble account. I called for a free day pass, but they wanted all my credit card information, screw that. Hip, schmip. :-/ I thought I’d save myself a drive to campus, hmph.
From Anne I borrowed the DVD Almost Famous, and it was fucking awesome. Watched it twice, once the theater release and once the director’s cut. I highly recommend either/both. All the performances were spot-on. I’ve got Elton John’s “Private Dancer” in my head. Awright, now my nerves are jangling from all the caffeine and sugar.
[Note: my bad, it's "Tiny Dancer."]
Phoned the bank for my balance. They’ve implemented a very annoying voice-activated system, which means that making the call in public forfeights privacy. I hold the mouthpiece close and mutter, “checking,” and the cheerful automated voice says, “Alright, checking!” I’d say, “fuck you,” but then it would reply blithely, “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that.” “I said, FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!”
Someone just complimented me on my Mac, which prompted his friend to make a snarky comment about it versus PC’s. Who the fuck cares?! Peoples, just don’t know about ‘em.
Later…
Drove to a computer lab, same university but different campus, but can’t get onto the network here. Nor can I get onto their WiFi. Gahhhhh. I ain’t driving all the way down to the central campus, so screw it. I must say, though, that this has got to be the swankiest computer lab I’ve ever seen! Holy fucking shit, brand-new computers, high-tech ergonomic chairs! It must have cost a fortune! This is sweet, I’m going to the wrong school.
Dawg, I’m having internet withdrawal. But even though I can’t get on right now, I just want to sit here for a moment and soak up the atmosphere. If this place had an art program, I’d transfer.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 5:48 PM
3 Comments:
I've had the same treatment from my family about anti depressants. And they gave me the shit about everyone having their problems and that I should get over it.
I was cracking up when I read your "Fuck You" thing to the automated phone thing to the bank. Yeah I tried doing something like trying to pay a bill from my office phone and they had that same set-up where you have to "talk" to the robot! I hate that shit.
Enjoying your Mac? Yeah, so am I, even though I went with an older model. Dude - PC people are ALWAYS going to make those silly comments about Macs. I never got it - but sure take it personally whenever you mention that you own one of those. It's like - It's just a fucking computer - get over it! It's my preference dickhead! :)
Funnily enough, my brother has been supportive about my AD's. He likes that I'm not always so down and fragile anymore. My parents are squeamish about it, but oh well.
My Mac's kewl except for the fucked up "S." :-( Luckily there's a Mac store here in town so I'll prolly take it there.
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