diddly food bib

A while back I mentioned that I had taken the great leap into that standard middle america pool called “brain pill central“. I’ve not mentioned much about it, it’s really more of a struggle than I ever imagined it would be.
I pretty much expected 1 maybe 2 tries and we’d find the pill and I’d take the pills and it would be sunshine and ladybugs and regular vacuuming. Doesn’t work like that.
Anyway, this isn’t about my brain, but the side effects.
I’m currently on Effexor at 225 mg a day.
I have a hell of a time eating. Sometimes I start to eat but the feeling of food in my mouth becomes repulsive. Sometimes I eat a lot because it’s okay. Yesterday I ate 2 fat/sugar free yogurts and a banana (though I almost lost the banana when I smelled the peel taking a bite). Today I ate a yogurt and most of a scone, feeling lucky I ate a cookie and a piece of licorice. I think the cookie was fine, but the licorice was a mistake.
It wasn’t regular licorice it was this awful Danish licorice that didn’t taste like licorice but like someone managed to distill twelve pounds of ass into one tiny niblet. Now all I want to do is puke everywhere. This is awful. I want to go fetal and grab my belly and die.
I was actually feeling optimistic this morning after the scone. Tonight I am going to my dad’s to crochet with my stepmom. She’s making meatloaf tonight. I’ve been craving meatloaf forever and finally I am going to get it and I might not be able to eat. fuck.
On the other hand, I might actually lose some weight! I guess there’s a bright side to everything.
In brighter news, I finally found a crocheted hoodie pattern and a template for making sweaters that shows you how to calculate in variables like body size, yarn, stitch and hook. I’ll be making lots of sweaters!

bitterly sweet

By now you’ve heard from many midwesterners about the glorious sunshiney day that was yesterday. The sun, the blue blue sky, the warmth, the breeze….there are not the words.
Not wanting to lose the opportunity, we took the little Chester down to the park to play. The last few times we took him were quietly stressful. He was afraid of new things, afraid of other dogs, completely without confidence. And I was at a loss to be honest. My dog park experiences are with Maddie, who is the prime protector and cannot be let off her leash or with Ghengis who viewed every human as a potential giver of treats and love and every dog as a playmate. I was not quite sure how to deal with a dog that was not only scared, but entirely without curiosity about the situation.
Dog obedience class! After 8 weeks of dog obedience class he is comfortable around other dogs, he’s curious and even willing to play a little.
We let him loose and he tried out some tentative butt sniffing and stuck close by. David ran about 50 feet away and Chester followed. We had him run back and forth between us and this aroused the attentions of other dogs. They came to investigate and there was another round of butt sniffing, less tentatively this time. He soon learned that unlike the dogs in the barn from where he was rescued, most dogs don’t want to kick your little puppy ass and steal your food, they just want to play.
The dog park is huge, a giant expanse of trees, hills, marsh and clear grass. Dogs in their various groups here and there. We walked from group to group (including the Pug Army! There were only 4 last night, but they have up to 8 or 10 pugs on some nights. a gasping mass of fat pugginess!). At one point David took off like a shot, running down the hill and into the trees with Chester hot on his trail.
And I gasped, and my heart hurt a little, and my eyes welled up.
One of the things I adored about David when we first started dating was how much he like Ghengis. How he would play Ghengis into exhaustion, run and chase with him. At the dog park they would do this, take off and run like the wind through the park. I loved watching this, I couldn’t help but smile to see the man and the dog that I loved so much together having so much fun. Briefly, it was painful to not see my little fella out there. David reminded, quite correctly, not to forget Chester. He was right, I needed to focus on what I had, not what I lost. We ran and played and practiced his dog obedience skillz and it was all good.
If you click here you can see Ghengis playing at the dog park in all his happy glory. Sorry about the quality, I’m not so great with the movie making. It’s just a very short movie to make loading easier.
Later there will be movies of Chester and Maddie and I will remember to celebrate what I have because what I have is pretty damned good.

Proof that I am insane or retarded

1) some jackass used my phone over the weekend while wearing a thick, gluey paste of cologne. Everything at my desk reeks of cheap, drugstore cologne. It’s giving me a headache and making my belly woogly
2) it is 77 degrees and sunny
3) my boss is not here all week
I AM STILL AT WORK
Seriously, what’s wrong with me? I should have left around 9:15 this morning. I should have come in, looked around for 12 seconds and then left. I’m sitting here advising every other person I know to have a meeting “off campus”. Is it loyalty to my job? Laziness to the point of not being able to stand up and leave? Stupidity?
I don’t know.

Wherein I discuss body related things that you probably do not want to know about

After 6 years I finally went in to get an eye exam this past weekend. I knew things were getting bad. My nearsightedness is getting better but my astigmatism is actually getting much worse. So, I’ve been getting along on the old prescription fine. Things were blurry but not terrible, I could compensate. However, now that i KNOW that I need new glasses my eyes are tired and hurting me.
This is very typical of me, I’ll be getting along okay with one thing or another but once it gets validated by a professional then it all goes to hell. It’s some sort of reverse psychosomatism or something.
That wasn’t so bad.
But now it gets worse. Really worse. You might want to stop reading now.
Last night I was working on a crochet project and David was out teaching English so I was not so motivated to do anything interesting for dinner. I looked in the fridge and there were two leftover pancakes from my weekend pancake fest (we ate the pancakes with St Maple’s Nuthouse Extreme Nerve Calmative and Itch Tonic. Delicious). I microwaved them and ate them over the stove with lemon ginger marmalade (I always want to type ‘marmaduke’ when I type marmalade “yeah, I smeared big red chunks of retarded dog all over my pancakes…ruff ruff”). Still hungry I considered my options… 2 bags of Sabritones, some tortilla chips, bananas, yogurt, Dove caramel chocolates and a pound of asparagus.
I went with the asparagus. Actually, I probably had about 1 1/4 pounds but it had been in the fridge for a while so some of it got tossed. Being lazy I trimmed the asparagus, threw it in a pie plate with some water and microwaved it for 2 minutes (it was the super thin asparagus that I love), drained it, tossed it with butter and some Penzey spice mix of some sort and ate it. I had two leftover pancakes and a pound of asparagus for dinner.
I imagine this is how bachelors eat except with more pretzels and less vegetables.
Starting 2 hours later my pee took on the inevitable asparagus stink. The problem is that a normal person eats sonething like 5 stalks of asparagus. I ate an entire pound. My pee reeked like a newly mown football field. All the essence of fresh cut grass and fertilizer had been crammed into my little bladder and was coming out in fits and starts.
This morning, after I drank my americano I hit the bathroom to take my usual after coffee super pee. My after coffee super pee usually smells like an entire shop is being operated in my…little bladder.
This morning the rogue guerilla asparagus army took the sleepy yuppies of my bladder coffee shop hostage and when I peed it reeked of dead vegetable, minerals, grass and coffee. It was so awful and weird and fascinating.
Normally, no one wants to hear about my pee and so I try not to share with you, but dammit….this was so fucking weird.