Update.
I feel a little dopey after sleeping to 10 am. Not quite awake still. Thick-cut organic bacon has gotten things moving in the right direction. A little Mister Potato Head and then a walk to the playground should get the blood moving.
Last night's bleak, lonesome mood has improved but still lingers. Sleep helps. And the fact that yesterday is finally over. My god, the driving, the driving.
At the same time of feeling kind of stranded in my life alone, I'm also pretty determined to get this fixed. I can't do much about my loopy family and my dead mother. I'm getting moving on the New Year's resolution to go to Paris, getting my money in order, and planting some fucking basil and rosemary (herbs are the shit!).
Ok you'd have to know me pretty well to understand how totally freaked out I am by medical stuff. I can't even talk about a lot of it without getting nauseated. This past week my grandmother went to the eye doctor and had some shit injected into her eyeball with a needle. I felt sick just hearing about it. But I was the one, for the next three days, who had to keep an eye ha, ha on it, give her eyedrops, and take her back to the *gulp* doctor.
I really didn't think I could do it. Like, I was seriously freaked out. But she needed me and I did it. I even wiped the gunk from her eye. And I am a person who has a morbid fear of the blood pressure cuff (the pulsing! ack ack). I am such a baby to be bragging about this. However I do have more faith in myself.
Time for Mister Potato Head.
3 Comments:
Mmmmmmm, bacon . . .
Maybe it would help you get over your loathing of medical procedures to operate on Mr. Potato Head. Turn him into Mr. Hash Browns to go with the bacon.
I can't even begin to tell you how creeped out I get thinking about any sort of eye procedure.
XO
welcome back beautiful. sorry you are feeling down. i often find the same feeling here and have come to understand that while comments and thoughts from others do indeed help some, they are no cure or fix for the blues. we really do blog for ourselves i suppose, and ultimately if that works it works and helps to get throughts on "paper". but it doesn't always. sending love and wishing for hugs your way.
Wry,
I scratched the hell out of my cornea...with a nail, at the age of 14. Nearly lost the eye altogether thanks to an incompetent intern. Condemned to glasses ever since. The scar tissue is in exactly the wrong place. Not even a candidate for laser surgery. It was cool to wear an eye patch for several months as a teenager, however. Do not recall that it upped my sex quotient, though.
Still curious to know what a girl like you might be reading from the fiction shelves. Our lives seem to me to be similar. I cannot take anti depressants...they make me totally fucking CRAZY...Seem to be stuck in a quagmire of insomnia/depression/booze/ambien. I love my wife, and the sex is O.K....in fact I think we are lucky on that front...it is however ALWAYS my idea...and I could be a lot more creative although I am never encouraged to be so. Love your sex writing...we would be very compatible if we didn't fuck each other to death.
I am very good at my profession, but in a deep rut and really quite bored. A complete life change seems in order...perhaps a little less of the bottle for a start.
When Pat Moynihan was asked if he thought his drinking in any way affected his political career he paused for a moment for effect and said "I don't know, I'll have to drink on that." I would find the wagon difficult...guess that means I have a problem.
I do know that it is a beautiful world, and that life is a gift. Now you know more about me than you ever cared to. Good luck. Oh yeah, fresh herbs are wonderful. 14 inches of rain have ruined my best vegetable garden in 15 years. Tragic.
Daytripper
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