Snow, cold, neighbors, missing my husband… just don’t feel motivated, want to nest here with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book.
Well, I did that yesterday, more or less, and really don’t feel any better so maybe I’ll try going to work after all. Just later February blues, nothing to see here, move along…
Why did I volunteer to help with a MardiGras party for teens, tonight? I must be real stupid. I look forward to loud music, screaming kids, and the odd make-out session to break up. Oh Yay!! Party time!! Can’t wait. At least the party has a end time, all kids must leave by 10pm.
I keep telling myself not to make any serious decisions while depressed, so I’m putting off deciding on retirement, moving, major purchases, etc. until it’s warmer… and we have a different Administration in power. Seriously, I’ve been depressed since November.
Co-oping mental illness for the sole purpose of “being cool” because “everyone else is X” or “everyone has a semicolon tattoo” is just wrong.
Co-oping mental illness for the sake of garnering attention, especially online, is just as bad, if not worse.
Go away people before I do/say/post something I’ll regret.
Not clear on the word “co-oping.” Do you mean “co-opting,” “to assimilate, take, or win over into a larger or established group”?
Or is it a shortened form of “cooperating”? (But that doesn’t really make sense.)
And if you mean it in the former sense, do you mean “pretending” to be ill or mentally ill?
Can’t get on board with your rant without clarification. Thank you.
Darling cat, of all the places you could’ve chosen to puke, why oh why did you have to barf in the tracks of my patio door? It was runny too, and oozed its way down into the bottom of the tracks. Thankfully I noticed it before I opened the door to go out and fill up the bird feeder. That would have been a real mess.
I survived the MardiGras party. It was a big success. I even got a little reward for the decorations, a gift card to have a mani/pedi. Cool! B-ball season is over, thank you jesus! It’s been hard this season, don’t know if I will volunteer for that again.
I have a new thing lined up. I won’t jinx it by spouting off too soon. But spring coming is my favorite thought right now!
That’s what I meant. I wasn’t sure about the t.
Exactly. Because it’s cool. We had an incident with a semicolon tattoo and the owner swooning how much she’d wanted to get one because “everybody has them”. Our fellow coworker had never heard of Project Semicolon. I was taken aback. I don’t know Tattoo Girl well enough to ascertain her mental health, but the fact that she gloated over it like the latest fad left me with a very bad taste in my mouth.
I have friends both IRL and online who have some form of mental instability if not outright illness. I don’t see it as much IRL but online, especially, there are poseurs out there who play the mental health trump card when they’re obviously in dire need of attention. They have camp followers who constantly soothe their egos. Ordinarily I let their latest crisis pass but every so often I want to say something to the effect of “You know, co-opting this is an insult to those who actually have something going on.” Not that it’d matter, but still.
Ok. Thx for clarification. Screw them!
It almost sounds like the heroin chic thing that went on in the 90s. Healthy, well-off people wanting to look like down-and-out, homeless drug addicts.
I had to look up what Project Semicolon was, so I’d cut your co-worker some slack (unless you are in a social work field, then they probably should have known).
No comment on poseurs.
You need some Eddie Izzard printer rants in your life.
So , I get a mysterious call from my Doctor. I had a blood draw when I went in last week. This is normal, I have Type 1 diabetes. I have had a lifetime of blood draws and needles.
On my voice mail is this message " Your blood test show some unusual findings, Please call and make an appointment for week of the 19th, as I will be out this week." Period, the end, nada! I could be dying of some dreaded scourge and she goes on an effing vacay??!?
I called the clinic. I can see her associate or wait til next week, I ain’t waiting! I am anxiety prone anyway, I don’t need that problem.
I keep telling myself if I was near death she would’ve sent me to ER. I am going in tomorrow, I will let you know if I am dead or not.
“Oh hey, good to see you. It turns out that you only have two weeks to live. Well, one week now…”
:eek:
No no, sorry to stir up anxiety. It can’t be that bad or yeah, they’d ask you in right away.
I hate that “you have to come into the office” crap. If it’s bad news, just tell me. I’d rather hear about it over the phone in the comfort of my own home where I can hug my cats, not in some doctor’s office where people stare when I walk out crying. :mad:
I hope it’s nothing,** Beckdawrek**.
I have an app on my phone that allows me to schedule appointments, request medication refills, and view test results. I know my labs before my doctor. I thought this was commonplace.
My HMO has such a site but it doesn’t have a mobile version.
Shit, I never even heard of the app.
I’m glad my mother doesn’t get that. She’d call me asking “why is my asdhuiwgtoyuab higher than my auohfaibrg?” “I don’t know, have you asked SiL-the-doc or your actual doctor? I don’t even know what those two evil-sounding words you just said mean.”
My network has an on-line site, but I don’t know if they have an app. Never looked. Easy enough to check at home where I can actually read the damned results on a larger screen.