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I Fight Back
May. 4th, 2017 08:31 pmMy pills still haven't shipped. If they're still "dispensing" tomorrow and haven't gone into the mail I'm 90% likely to call my GP back up and see if I can get an emergency supply of at least five days filled locally. I had no idea they were going to drag their feet so much, especially after bullying me into changing pharmacies. But I guess this is the least of worries under the new "ACA," so I should either suck it up, buttercup or maybe just go ahead and shoot myself.
In slightly happier news I feel like eating cheese. Specifically I found a two pound block of velveeta and I really want to just straight up eat it. Not melted or on anything, just fucking eat the thing.
IN EVEN BETTER NEWS I went for a run. I've gone from 2:1 interval running to 3:1, then 4:1, and recently I started running a whole mile, then walking about 1/10. The logic there is that most races have aid stations every mile, and you need to slow down to drink. I usually keep walking until I burp, then it's time to run again. I'm doing this on the treadmill at a sustainable pace, lower than my race pace. I'm also enjoying listening to electro-swing lately, fun stuff! My training plan has "pace days," which means run at race pace, but I'm skipping those while my anxiety is an issue. It's hard to eat, and to keep things in my system, so I've been feeling less than stellar and I'm low on energy.
I've been able to chat with Steelwing, a long-time friend who has been listening to my shit for over fifteen years. Fox is very reassuring, but it's helpful to talk to someone who has known you that long.
I also posted to an online group that's a big seething wad of positivity. Last year I plunked down the money and signed up with Nerd Fitness Academy. One of the perks is access to the private FB groups, men and women. The women's group is amazing. I'm especially hanging onto a comment that said, basically, "You're fighting your way through this the best way you can and you are a warrior."
So this morning, I transplanted six Amish Paste tomatoes and a dozen Ten Fingers of Naples. They all looked good this evening. I hope they're still there tomorrow morning. I've had problems with deer and rabbits before, and now there's a tall fence around the veggie plots against deer. But rabbits can still get in. A few years ago I had a lot of success with using coyote pee to keep the freeloading bums out of my garden. I still have a 16 ounce bottle. A little goes a long way. It also makes the cats cluster around me, sniffing, insistent, and making 'butt face.' Yeah, one time I accidentally spilled some on my hands and jeans. I'm pretty sure coyotes would have loved me. Also: I love coyotes. I refuse to shoot or harm them, and firmly believe predators are necessary to environmental health.
I also did a lot of catch-up household chores. So I mostly managed to stay busy. I wish I felt well enough to draw - my mind is really running on stories. I loosely sketched out a rewrite of a short story, and I've been slowly editing a novel I did for NaNoWriMo back down to it's real plot - without all the excess NaNo stuff in there to make word count. Murder, mayhem, and gay romance, what's not to like. Mostly mayhem. :D
And tomorrow may be a crowning glory, or an abject failure. I'm going to try a recipe for braising a whole chicken in milk. It looks amazing. Luscious. Decadent. Succulent. Life changing. It could also end up sucking balls. I've never tried this method - traditionally you braise pork in milk. It's also a Jamie Oliver recipe that the NYT Cooking column picked up and they assure their readers it is absolutely worth the effort.
Off topic - how many covers of "Long Black Veil" are there?
So you can see what I'm dealing with brain-wise. Man, I hope they ship my pills, I don't wanna call my doctor about the emergency RX. Also, since I'm Officially Old he's ordering a mammogram. Yep, I get to go get a titty-mashing. Aside from the obvious dysphoria, I'm also terrified because of the prevalence of breast cancer in my family. I wouldn't be surprised if the stupid things were trying to kill me. Honestly, why do we have breasts? They're useless unless you're feeding an infant, so folks like me are stuck with fatty lumps that are constantly in the way and look dumb. (I think my tits look ridiculous and awful. I've tried different body-positive approaches but it hasn't helped.) I also dread being treated like a traditional woman. But hey, this is a Great New Country and I guess I ought to get to being feminine and making sure men like me. Maybe I should start pumping out white babies for the Motherland! Yeah! I mean, anxiety-ridden babies with probable depression, definitely nearsighted. But white babies! Yeah!
Ugh, I hate what my country has turned into. I'm torn between wanting to fight beak and claw and just giving the fuck up and moving to Norway.
Doesn't it take a lot of energy to hate that many people that much? Sometimes, like today, I'm so happy and thankful for my friends I feel exhausted with gratitude. Seems like hate would require a lot more work.
And anyway, we're all caught up on "The Magicians" now. I'm getting the last two books Saturday, so after I finish this re-read of LoTR I'll get on those.
I dunno, folks. I feel worn down. Like the world needs all the help it can get, but I can barely get out of bed. Like I'm supposed to be the hero in my story but it's turning into this boring postmodern shit where I just question existing. Sometimes I just want to make a blanket fort in my bedroom and cry and eat Cheerios. I'm really sucking at this hero role, and it's the one I auditioned for, so I feel awful about it.
In slightly happier news I feel like eating cheese. Specifically I found a two pound block of velveeta and I really want to just straight up eat it. Not melted or on anything, just fucking eat the thing.
IN EVEN BETTER NEWS I went for a run. I've gone from 2:1 interval running to 3:1, then 4:1, and recently I started running a whole mile, then walking about 1/10. The logic there is that most races have aid stations every mile, and you need to slow down to drink. I usually keep walking until I burp, then it's time to run again. I'm doing this on the treadmill at a sustainable pace, lower than my race pace. I'm also enjoying listening to electro-swing lately, fun stuff! My training plan has "pace days," which means run at race pace, but I'm skipping those while my anxiety is an issue. It's hard to eat, and to keep things in my system, so I've been feeling less than stellar and I'm low on energy.
I've been able to chat with Steelwing, a long-time friend who has been listening to my shit for over fifteen years. Fox is very reassuring, but it's helpful to talk to someone who has known you that long.
I also posted to an online group that's a big seething wad of positivity. Last year I plunked down the money and signed up with Nerd Fitness Academy. One of the perks is access to the private FB groups, men and women. The women's group is amazing. I'm especially hanging onto a comment that said, basically, "You're fighting your way through this the best way you can and you are a warrior."
So this morning, I transplanted six Amish Paste tomatoes and a dozen Ten Fingers of Naples. They all looked good this evening. I hope they're still there tomorrow morning. I've had problems with deer and rabbits before, and now there's a tall fence around the veggie plots against deer. But rabbits can still get in. A few years ago I had a lot of success with using coyote pee to keep the freeloading bums out of my garden. I still have a 16 ounce bottle. A little goes a long way. It also makes the cats cluster around me, sniffing, insistent, and making 'butt face.' Yeah, one time I accidentally spilled some on my hands and jeans. I'm pretty sure coyotes would have loved me. Also: I love coyotes. I refuse to shoot or harm them, and firmly believe predators are necessary to environmental health.
I also did a lot of catch-up household chores. So I mostly managed to stay busy. I wish I felt well enough to draw - my mind is really running on stories. I loosely sketched out a rewrite of a short story, and I've been slowly editing a novel I did for NaNoWriMo back down to it's real plot - without all the excess NaNo stuff in there to make word count. Murder, mayhem, and gay romance, what's not to like. Mostly mayhem. :D
And tomorrow may be a crowning glory, or an abject failure. I'm going to try a recipe for braising a whole chicken in milk. It looks amazing. Luscious. Decadent. Succulent. Life changing. It could also end up sucking balls. I've never tried this method - traditionally you braise pork in milk. It's also a Jamie Oliver recipe that the NYT Cooking column picked up and they assure their readers it is absolutely worth the effort.
Off topic - how many covers of "Long Black Veil" are there?
So you can see what I'm dealing with brain-wise. Man, I hope they ship my pills, I don't wanna call my doctor about the emergency RX. Also, since I'm Officially Old he's ordering a mammogram. Yep, I get to go get a titty-mashing. Aside from the obvious dysphoria, I'm also terrified because of the prevalence of breast cancer in my family. I wouldn't be surprised if the stupid things were trying to kill me. Honestly, why do we have breasts? They're useless unless you're feeding an infant, so folks like me are stuck with fatty lumps that are constantly in the way and look dumb. (I think my tits look ridiculous and awful. I've tried different body-positive approaches but it hasn't helped.) I also dread being treated like a traditional woman. But hey, this is a Great New Country and I guess I ought to get to being feminine and making sure men like me. Maybe I should start pumping out white babies for the Motherland! Yeah! I mean, anxiety-ridden babies with probable depression, definitely nearsighted. But white babies! Yeah!
Ugh, I hate what my country has turned into. I'm torn between wanting to fight beak and claw and just giving the fuck up and moving to Norway.
Doesn't it take a lot of energy to hate that many people that much? Sometimes, like today, I'm so happy and thankful for my friends I feel exhausted with gratitude. Seems like hate would require a lot more work.
And anyway, we're all caught up on "The Magicians" now. I'm getting the last two books Saturday, so after I finish this re-read of LoTR I'll get on those.
I dunno, folks. I feel worn down. Like the world needs all the help it can get, but I can barely get out of bed. Like I'm supposed to be the hero in my story but it's turning into this boring postmodern shit where I just question existing. Sometimes I just want to make a blanket fort in my bedroom and cry and eat Cheerios. I'm really sucking at this hero role, and it's the one I auditioned for, so I feel awful about it.
