You see,since Dec. 28th I’ve been hiding in my head, trying to pretend the world doesn’t exist and avoiding thinking about things as best I can because the thoughts hurt So…typing about them to you guys would have brought them to the forefront thus making me think the thoughts that I don’t want to think, plus I also REALLY REALLY don’t like being Deanna the Downer Dandelion, either.
For y’all, I want to be a source of fun, of stories and fantasies, of escape from the drudgery of daily life and caring about the YOU of you. I don’t LIKE being a source of bad, horrible, negative drama in my own life, much less in yours – you deserve better than that!
But that’s all I got now – depression, fear, utter helplessness, anxiety, frustration, the whole badly dyed, slightly dusty 9 yards..
***sigh***
Remember the SSI telephone application appointment at the end of December that I had such high hopes for?
It did not go well.
At all.
The interview “lady” was so condescending, insulting, mocking, patronizing, and disparaging that I cried for a solid hour after getting off the phone. And then that evening. And that night. And the next day…
Imagine a Dolores Umbridge without the “hem hem” and you have the officious office beast I got stuck with.
I really don’t have any hope.
And that’s why I haven’t updated recently. I am so sick and tired of being a constant source of whine and sadness.
Plus my cheapie keyboard is just that smidge too small and my fingers keep NOT hitting the right keys. Frustrating!!
Also bronchitis ’cause that’s always fun. There’s more, a lot more, but I hate this keyboard and I’ve dumped enough off on you already. But I could really use a hug right about now.
Y’all really are great and I do most heartily thank you for caring and for letting me whine at you. I genuinely DO do hope you have been having a better 2023 than I have but honestly, that wouldn’t take much at all. Somebunny win us all the lottery??
*pfft* Hey, can’t hurt to toss the suggestion out into the Universe, right?
I should open my own whinery – I have enough stock by now!
No, srsly, it can’t even go fucking nuts right anymore – it’s gotta be nucking futs now!
Ok, let’s all agree that I can be one of those superbly annoying folks who can see both sides of most issues. I blame the preponderance of Libra in my charts for this. But even I, with all my “devil’s advocate” annoyances, cannot see one single reason for any one not in the actual military to possess military-grade “rapid action” firearms.
I can see victims, or potential victims, of domestic violence or stalking having a decent handgun for literal self-protection. I can see people, singles, families, whatev, keeping a well-secured, well-protected handgun in the home for protection if that’s what they want to do. (Personally I’m a proponent of those pressurized spray cans of “25-foot wasp spray”…hella wide range of nasty in-the-face chemicals, too, y’all.) I can see cops, federal marshals, and actual peacekeepers having appropriate armament so that they CAN keep the peace.
What I cannot see is some deranged generic psychotic shithead with a grudge with red flags dinging all over the place getting their thirsty-for-blood hands on any sort of firearm for any reason, whatsoever.
No.
I can’t see it, I can’t excuse it, I can’t understand it, and I can’t approve it.
Deranged psychopaths need strong, effective mental help, not military-grade firearms.
**bangs head on desk while mourning dead people**
Ok, I’ll shut up with that rant now.
***deep breath***
Ok, ok, so…subject change…
Well, I’m now on my third ‘socket’ – the thing that what’s left of my left leg goes down into that connects to the metal “ankle” and “foot”.
My leg is shrinking/compressing well, not fast enough in my impatient opinion, but it’s slowly getting there.
Painfully.
This new socket is smaller and shaped slightly different from what I was used to so it’s applying pressure in different places on my poor, beleaguered flesh. (Remember, after they cut the bone off, the leftover calf muscles were pulled forward, wrapped around the end of the cut bone, then sewn to the flesh in the front?It’s like a line stitched in a baseball.) Well, that flesh is now being pounded in new and unusual ways because of how the socket is made.
Yup, it’s painful.
It makes me not want to get up and move around but I have to get up and move around because, 1. I want/need to get up and move around (lol), and 2. if I don’t, I’ll never get used to it.
So I have to hurt myself for my own good…especially if I want wild and crazy things like food, coffee, or the toilet.
This latest socket is also odd – it allows my knee both MORE freedom…and less.
This is not fair, y’all. Or fun.
But I do have a teeny success story to share, fwiw, even if it’s proof of the “one step forward, two steps back” price of life. Ok, y’all may know that I love what I call “egg toast” – it’s just plain white bread dunked into beaten eggs (sometimes with a bit of milk/cream added, dash water, herbs as wanted) then fried until golden and crispy. Frying anything is still very iffy with me what with the balance, stability, and pain issues especially NOW with the new socket, so this time around I decided to try something new – I microwaved those eggy untoasty bastards.
It worked…for the most part. Wasn’t at all crispy (hi, microwave) but was “done” and tasted mostly like it was supposed to (Does “golden crispy” have a flavor? Yes, yes it does and no, it wasn’t there), so it counted, mostly.
It’s one of those things that I’m not in a rush to do again but am glad I did it at least once to see how it went, ya know?
Seems to be the basis of my life now…
I’ll wrap up this pointless, meandering mush-blob by saying that it’s a rainy day. I love rainy days (when I don’t have to get out in it, let it rain!!) when everything seems a bit quieter, a little slower, a lot safer. Rainy days imply a sort of coziness, kind of like snow days do. It’s like they let the earth, and us, breathe a bit easier.
So, if you’re having a rainy day, join me in a nice warm cuppa – coffee, tea, whatever you like – and toss me some cookies. I’m out. Also out of milk, too, but I can pretend, right?
Anyway, thank you so much for your patience with me, your support, your kindness, and your bitty baby spider vids (lookin’ at YOU, our amazing Duckbutt!)!
Addicted to Godric...Eric...Andre...(Sevrin) 