I’m about to go midieval on the hospital where my mother is… My Stepfather called me this afternoon telling me they think she had a stroke, I’ve now been trying on & off for four hours to get through. :mad::mad::mad:
Heh. I did know that worms were called vermis in Latin (the Spanish word is gusano, which comes from something else altogether and RAE say they don’t know from what), but I’d never connected it with the Spanish word bermellón (vermillion).
hands Janis her rubber-and-fiberglass axe It can’t be confused with a real weapon but it’s large, impressive and good for waving about angrily.
Hee. Thanks Nava! I FINALLY got through. She sounds ok, fairly lucid, if a little… off kilter. picks up the axe TPTB at that place will be getting an earful from yours truly tomorrow however!
If you decide to go visit your friend (or try and go buy some weed off a guy, which I suspect was what they were actually trying to do), at 2am, do the world a favour, and check which flat they live in before you get there, rather than just ringing every fucking door bell in turn until someone answers.
Seriously, that’s happened twice in the last week.
The first time, the moron managed to jam the button in, making it continually ring, and they hadn’t even got the right house.
So, I was informed yesterday that my best friend and my daughter are going to do a fundraiser for me this summer for medical bills that I will be accumulating.
Do. Not. Want.
I don’t want to be the center of attention. I do not want a pity party. Yes, money would be VERY helpful, but not from a freakin’ benefit. I was told they’re doing it whether I want it or not and yes, I have to be there. Fuck.
They want to help, MissTake.
Did a lot of gardening over the weekend, and between digging holes and giving the compost heap a thorough turning-over, my back hurts like hell!
I have two things today.
-
I got to work today to find that operations at the plant where the excess equipment I keep track of is stored has strewn plastic bins all over the place. This didn’t make me mad but what I found on one of them about gave me a panic attack. I found myself face to face with an old wasp nest. Now I know it’s too cold and the nest is far too old to have any live wasps coming out of it but damn if I’m not feeling really anxious and sick to my stomach about it. Stupid brain being unreasonably afraid of flying, stinging insects.
-
Tomorrow I have an appointment with my doctor to discuss my lack of periods. I haven’t had one since December. I don’t usually miss whole periods unless I’m really stressed out but last year was very stressful and I missed two of them. I don’t know what’s going on but it really makes me scared. I don’t know what is going on and I’m terrified that my doctor will dismiss me because of my weight. I especially don’t want this to mean that I can’t have kids. I suffered through high school with my periods too much to not be able to have kids now that I’m an adult and stable.
Arrived at the batcave this AM to discover the production PC had rebooted itself. Then it blue-screened in reboot. As this was going on, Best Buy called wondering why I was buying things for pickup 125 miles away. Determined it’s a video card memory issue with production box, canceled Discover card that got cloned, pulled out the spare laptop, only to discover it had the spawn of the Devil on it—Windows 8.
Kill Me Now.
While this is the sort of thing that Bill would have liked…
This is what I did. Pure genius, thank you so much. I haven’t had to give Lucky a water bath since you posted it. You have no idea how happy all of us are now that that problem has been fixed.
(Except Bob the cat, but considering that he was part of the problem and the last time someone had a problem with his behavior they had his balls cut off, he got off easy this time.)
[quote=“Nava, post:223, topic:651705”]
Heh. I did know that worms were called vermis in Latin (the Spanish word is gusano, which comes from something else altogether and RAE say they don’t know from what), but I’d never connected it with the **Spanish word bermellón (vermillion).[/**QUOTE]
Happily files the bolded part away for some future use. 
Bill has to go back to Oklahoma tomorrow. I knew this was part of his job, I accept that there are times when he has to drop everything and be gone for a while. I went into this with my eyes wide open. I still hates it everytime he has to leave. Its different than when we were living apart. I might just have a personal pity party tomorrow night. It will involve chocolate.
Not to mention that the cats will all be idiots for at least a day. I’ll deserve the chocolate.
***(((()))) *for Flatlined & Skritches for the kitties
I cant stop crying
fuck
hugs for rabbitwoman. We’re here if you need to vent, y’know.
Hang in there, dearie. Wish I could offer more support than some pixels on a screen, but hey … pixels!
{{{ hugs }}}
Dear beloved friend:
Your own bad decisions have thoroughly derailed your intended career path. You sank a lot of energy, time and money to work towards a vocation that is highly respected and potentially lucrative, and then destroyed it all through your own piss-poor judgement.
Please accept this: nobody will ever hire you to do X, Y, or Z. It’s time to start looking for work doing A, B, or possibly C, instead of wallowing in self-pity and the fantasy that you can salvage what you’ve wrecked, and miring yourself further into debt while crashing with your psychotic parents.
Signed,
Harsh Truths & Reality
I once got the coders of a game I played to add a ‘kleenex’ emote…
Nava passes you the box of kleenex.
Please go here and tell these human shit stains that vaccines do not cause autism.
:rolleyes:
Fucking assholes. Some people should not be allowed near a computer.
Well, I figured out why I’m filled with pain that is only getting worse lately;
“The following adverse experiences occurred with an incidence of less than 3% in glipizide extended-release-treated patients:
Body as a Whole: Pain.”
Started it last month. Stopping it now.
This stupid depression is fucking awful. I’m having to drop a class due to medical reasons. I’m struggling to make myself do the work I need to do at work, which is somewhat secondary to the fact that I haven’t been able to make myself eat properly, get out of the apartment regularly, or consistently perform basic living-type tasks. I’m terrified of fucking everything up, and, as it stands right now, I’m really close to doing that.
Thing is, according to student services, this “isn’t a crisis” and the closest they can get me in is three weeks. Dammit, I may not be a short-term physical danger to myself, but there are different levels of crisis, and I don’t know if I’m going to make it through the next three weeks without seriously messing something up.
Also, on a lighter note, I thought getting a black area rug was smart. Wouldn’t show dirt, you see. Yeah, that worked well.
My husband is being forced (by means of increased premiums) to quit smoking. Now, where is the rant here? Of course I want my husband to stop smoking. However, he has been enormously stressed, anxious, and somewhat depressed for at least a year now. He won’t do anything about it. I’ve tried getting him to go to therapy, I’ve tried getting him to talk to the doctor - nothing.
So, the quit smoking plan has decided that he is an excellent candidate for Zyban. He realized it is the same medication I take for my depression (Wellbutrin), so he’s asking me questions in general, then says, “Maybe it will help with my depression, too.” Ya THINK? :smack:
Mixed blessing: he’s going to quit smoking (I hope), and is going to be on an anti-depressant (I hope) = Yay! He’s going to be quitting smoking (side effects) and is going to be on a new medication (side effects) = Boo!
I know it’s only small irritations on the way to a good thing, but still…
That only works if you have a houseful of black cats. And all your household dust is black.
Hang in there - you can do this. Keep us posted.
My experience with student services and mental illness was quite subpar. My student services was quite content to drug me up and give me three therapy visits before declaring me taken care of. This isn’t to discourage you from going, of course. A little help is better than none.
{{{{hugs}}}}