Wednesday, August 10, 2011

About yesterday

So yesterday, after I cried, slept, ate half a bag of chips and a massive chunk of lemon meringue pie (Who says I don't have healthy coping skills?) I made some decisions.

I decided "F*ck it" I'm tossing all the beads, buttons, fabric blah blah blah. I can't store it, no one cares to help me find a place to store it, I have few things left of my own that I can toss and I can't (shouldn't) toss stuff that belongs to the other occupants of the house, not to mention MILs stuff in the basement.  This stupid laptop has to go to - too much wasted time.  At least if I waste my time watching T.V. I can still sweep or fold laundry, do some stuff.  (I can, doesn't necessarily mean that I will)  No one cares anyway, they'll eat off clean dishes right out of the dishwasher and stack the dirty ones on the counter, they'll wear clean clothes right out of the basket, wrinkles and all so why should I bother to fold them.  We used to have doors on the kitchen to keep Max out but we took them down and now he seems to think that it's a free-for-all -  if he can reach it, he can eat it.  Needless to say he's been eating quite well lately as we keep forgetting that he has access to the kitchen now.  The cupboard door behind which the garbage can is stored has not proven to be much of an obstacle for him either.  Everyone is getting pissed off at him but he's mostly Lab and isn't that what Labs do - eat everything in sight.  I really, really, really don't want those damn doors back up.  And my sister (from out of town - I'll call her D) can't come this week because her husband is going to be away and she can't leave her cats which I totally get.  And, as if that weren't enough, I got chewed up by some kind of mutant mosquitos at the pool party that I didn't notice at the time but have left me with hundreds (o.k. may 10s) of itchy welts.  Good God, will my trials and tribulations never end? 
That was my big pity fest but of course (like suicide) I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't toss my precious beads and stuff, (remember about twenty minutes ago I was going to trash everything - I digressed) Hell, I couldn't even get a garbage bag out because no one in the house, not even me, believed I would really toss the stuff.   I did however decide that being unorganized does not mean I can't craft.  So I just went back to stitching and stacked all my crap on shelves in a half-assed way.  Chances are I'll have a tough time finding anything thing but what the hell - I'm throwing caution to the wind.  (I was going to include a pic of my completed peacock but he has apparently flown away).
 My jenga stacks

 These are just some of the seed beads - You see why all efforts are futile?  We must abandon the entire project in order to save ourselves!
 This is my current project.  What is it you ask?  It's a four inch square which I intend to cover entirely with seed beads.  What I will do with it after that, who knows.
 Here is the next one I will start (crappy photo).  It's a butterfly.  When it's done what will I do with it (along with Mr. Peacock upon his return)?  I don't know that either but when I figure it out, you will be the first to know.

I did unload the stupid dishwasher and I did fold the stupid laundry.  I did not walk the stupid dog.  (Derek took him out for his usual short walk which I appreciate a lot but Max is quite indignant about getting such a short walk - he's spoiled.)    I don't know what else I was supposed to do but whatever it was I didn't. 
So after yesterday's, self-pity, pout and sulk party I decided it was time to have a heart to heart with my doctor.  I love my doctor, I have been seeing her for a good 18 years now BUT (I'm so good with that word) her primary nurse/assistant M, recently retired and her new staff suck.  They are all like little trolls that you have to trick or satisfy before you can get by them to see the Dr.  First off, I go there every 2 weeks for a B12 shot and here we are six months later and they still can't remember my name (like my self-esteem isn't low enough already) and I find that incredibly annoying and insulting.  Second, she has a nurse practitioner (whatever that is) and she is the secondary troll you have to get by.  As I said I have been seeing Dr.F for a long time and she is very familiar with my history and she knows me, my personality, my idiosyncrasies (thank God for spell check, I had no idea how to spell that one).  So the conversation went like this:

- Hi, this SH, I would like to make an appointment to see Dr.F about my medication. (I already learned that the conversation will end if you don't tell the troll why you want an appointment.)
-What about your medication? (seriously, that's what she asked)
- I'm thinking I'ld like to make a change.
- Well the Dr. is very busy, she's just back from holidays and it could be a while.
- That's o.k. I've been on these meds for a while and a little longer won't matter.
- You could see the nurse practitioner (mama troll) and then you could get in faster.
- No I really want to talk to Dr. F.
- (Big Sigh, like I'm a pain in the ass) Well then, the best I can do is August 24 at 2:45.
- (Biting my tongue, did she really sigh? YES) That's fine, August 24, 2:45
- No wait, better make it 3:00.
- Fine.

Seriously, I think she was annoyed that I insisted on seeing my Doctor and was trying to piss me off so I would just say fine, I'll see mama troll, who I don't know, to talk about something as sensitive as adjusting depression meds.  I was tempted to say I would but that baby troll better make damn sure mama troll read every single page of my file so that she could have an intelligent discussion with me about what we had tried in the past, what worked, what didn't work yadda yadda. It's not even like you can say enough - I'm going somewhere else.  Family doctors in this province are rarer than a clean spot on my floor, you're lucky if you can find one, never mind another one to switch to.  Plus I like the doctor, it's those horrible little trolls I can't stand.  I want M back.

So today I will stitch but (I think I'll start counting how often I use that word) I'm still stuck with walking the dog.  It shouldn't be a chore because he loves it, a long walk is good for me (supposedly) and the sun shine will make me feel better (supposedly) and it's only one measly hour out of my day.  It just gets incredibly boring walking around this neighbourhood day after day and to top of my wretched existence, my MP3 player kacked out so I don't even have radio or music to listen to while I walk. (sniffle, sniffle)

P.S.  I know that to many people these problems may seem, and probably are trivial but they tend to pile up on me and become overwhelming.  I am fully aware that things could be a lot worse (I've been there) and that's why I'm trying to maintain some sense of humour about the whole thing.  (except the trolls, they really are a problem.)

Whoa, sorry this turned out to be much longer than I intended!


  1. I feel as you do about taking a walk. I know it will help my depression, but I rarely can make myself do it.

    I'm glad you didn't toss the beads. I think the seed beads are lovely.

    Love you. Hang in there. Thanks for your comments over at my blog.


  2. God, when you talked about tossing the computer I almost had a heart attack; anything but the computer. :)
    The beads are great. What if you put them on T-Shirts or tote bags and sold the on Etsy? Have you ever done Indian beading? My son makes these beautiful necklaces and key chains of beads.

  3. Neat beading, I can not do that little beading, my nerves (fingers start to shake...i can manage very few on something but thats about it) Maybe I should try again sometime. How old is Max, hopefully he will grow out of that stage soon. I understand the walking thing too but dang its so hot!! Hope you have a good day tomorrow. Hugs, Kim

  4. LOVE that you decided that you want to see your doctor and refused to play the game.

    pour all the beads in a dish and run your fingers through them if all else fails... very therapeutic.