Tag: prescriptions

Amazing Grace

Wednesday and the parades are rolling again tonight. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with this, to be honest. I can’t believe it’s the final weekend of Mardi Gras madness already, can you? I have to run a couple of errands today after leaving work, trying to get it all accomplished and get my ass home while it’s still possible to find a place to park. Much as I don’t want to deal with the errands tonight, tomorrow would be even more difficult as it’s Muses Thursday, and going straight home from work is no guarantee I can park within a mile of the house. Sigh. The pleasure of living inside the box, right?

I was super tired when I got home yesterday, and I never did feel like I was fully awake all day, to be honest. I was finally able to get my night time prescription refilled again, after the first pill bottle mysteriously disappeared (all fingers point at Sparky, and it’s probably under the dishwasher or the couch), and so I had to adjust back from one medication (I still had my old night time medication) to the right one again, which would explain why yesterday I never felt like my brain escaped the fog. Today is, in fact, the first day in a long time where I’ve felt mentally alert again, which is great. It’s terrible when you’re not on your game, and you aren’t sure why; now that I am in my sixties mental things are much more alarming than they used to be–and some memories I’ve forgotten are so forgotten even when I am reminded, in great detail, I don’t remember anything about it. That’s disturbing on a very deep level; my mental acuity is something I do worry about as I get older. We don’t have any mental deterioration diseases in the family as far as I can remember–I need to ask Dad about that, along with any other genetic conditions he and Mom might have or know about within the family (we aren’t a family that talks about that sort of thing much; I think it’s mostly because we have so much genetic tendency to faulty wiring in our brains to begin with)–but I think I’d know about it if it was in the immediate family.

Anyway, tonight when I get home from work I need to do some laundry and the dishes. I don’t know if I’ll go out to the corner tonight or not, but all signs point to not. Nyx is the final parade tonight, and as far as I know, Nyx is still a horrific white supremacy krewe (last year my mind was not on Carnival), so I don’t know if I’d want to go to that even if I didn’t have to get up so early in the morning tomorrow. I do need to write about that at some point, don’t I? The great thing about being a crime writer is you never run out of prejudice, bigotry and hate to write about.

It looks like I’ll be going to Alabama to see family and visit Mom’s grave next weekend; Dad is going down for the anniversary of losing her, and I’ll go up and meet him up there for the weekend. It’s just easier, really, for me to go instead of my sister, and I don’t think Dad should do these grave visits without one of us there for him. It’s also kind of for me; it’s just easier mentally and emotionally to focus on Dad’s loss rather than my own. It’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with it, but this is how I generally deal with any kind of personal loss or tragedy in my life: focus on the grief of others. I also suppose that the impending anniversary (today, I think, is the anniversary of her final stroke? It’s all murky to me other than knowing she died on Valentine’s Day) has probably also been working on me subconsciously (subconscious BASTARDS!!!) and could have something to do with the foggy funk I’ve been in lately, in addition to the unfortunate medication change of the last couple of weeks.

I didn’t watch the Grammys the other night, but I did watch the Tracy Chapman/Luke Combs “Fast Car” performance on Youtube, which brought back a lot of memories. “Fast Car” was a very important song in the development of my life and my adulthood; the lyrics of feeling trapped and needing to escape a toxic life situation resonated very deeply with Double Life Gregalicious, and helped start the process of finally merging those two very separate mentally unhealthy existences, which is something else I should blog about–but it was amazing seeing the audience reaction to a middle-aged out Black lesbian, and I’m going to have to listen to her album again; it’s been a hot minute. But thanks again, for your voice and your music and your soul, Ms. Chapman.

I did edit a short story–or started editing, at any rate–last night, and it really is amazing what you don’t see when you’re in the midst of writing it and when you come back to it again after a lengthy period of time. “How the hell did I not see how clunky that sentence is?” was constantly running through my mind, and I also realized what the point of the story was–he’s reached his breaking point, and I need to communicate that to the reader more clearly than in the original draft. It felt good, you know, to work on something, and feel like I was doing some good polishing work on it. I really do love writing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will most likely check in again with some more blatant self-promotion later.

These Boots Are Made for Walkin’

Up early to head to the airport and fly up to visit my parents. I never did get the damned prescription refill situation resolved (who knew that something as simple as a prescription refill–which simply needs to be called in or sent to a pharmacy–is beyond the capabilities of a nurse practitioner? I think it’s time for me to find a new doctor, frankly), so that will have to wait till I get back from the trip–and trust me, I am going to go all Julia Sugarbaker on that bitch’s ass when I get back; I may not even do it over the phone and might just go to the doctor’s office in person…I have not slept now since Saturday. A co-worked suggested a cannabis tincture, so last night on the way home from work I stopped at a CBD store and bought some. It really really relaxed me, but it didn’t turn my brain off, so while I was incredibly relaxed and comfortable in bed all night, I never really slept.

I am actually beginning to think this is some kind of insane endurance contest at this point.

Anyway since I’ll be gone, I may not be posting here as much. I did get all packed last night, checked in for my flight, and all of that day-before-you-leave stuff was handled, and then I went to bed early (for all the good it did) and now am up swilling coffee; I’ve got From Here to Eternity and a short story collection by James Purdy in my carry-on bag, as well as my iPad and the MacBook Air…but again, don’t know how much I’ll be on-line, if at all, while I am there. I’ve not seen my family in well over a year and a half–I didn’t go home to visit during the 2019 football season, so it was definitely before that–but my memory is so shot I can’t remember when exactly I did go up there. I’m hoping to do some writing and reading and relaxing, but even WITH my helpful prescription I have trouble sleeping while I am there, so…I don’t imagine it’s going to get any easier. (I may have to up the CBD dosage; I’ll try that tonight.)

I did order martini glasses yesterday; they should be here by the time I get back on Monday…so next up is learning how to make dirty vodka martinis. Maybe a martini and some CBD before bed will do the trick. Who knows? It’s certainly worth a try, and I was certainly relaxed the other night after I had two, even if I didn’t sleep that night.

I got the final edits on a short story I wrote for an anthology being done by the Chessies chapter of Sisters in Crime (that’s the chapter I elected to join; I have an insane amount of friends in that chapter–writers and editors I admire deeply and am so thrilled to call friends). I don’t remember the name of the anthology at the moment, nor do I remember the theme, but I finally found a home for the story “The Snow Globe”, and I have to say, after the input from the editors, it really is a story I am proud of, and am proud to have in a Sisters chapter anthology. Naturally, I will be posting more about the story when the anthology is closer to being released, which is next spring.

I hope the thrill of selling a short story is something I never lose.

I have been feeling disconnected from writing again lately–and need to get my shit together and start writing again. I have lots of short stories to finish, I need to get back to Chlorine, and I am going to get edits on other manuscripts at some point soon–so I need to get back into my good writing habits. It’s hard, though, to be creative when your brain isn’t centered or rested and you haven’t been sleeping…although I always can find an excuse not to write, can’t I?

The weather looks pretty nasty out there this morning–I hope my flight isn’t delayed. I don’t have much time at my change of planes destination (Dallas Love)…but I also don’t have any texts from Southwest, so I am assuming all systems are still go. I do worry that if I misconnect in Dallas it could turn into an all-day ordeal trying to get up there.

But I will cross that bridge when I come to it.

So, have a great day, and I’ll check in again when I have the chance or time.

This Used To Be The Future

Today’s title is actually true, and rather depressing if you spend too much time thinking about it. This is not what I had hoped or dreamed the future would be, at least not for me or for the world. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, but it seems that things just get worse as I get older, year to year. Oh, sure, we have made progress as a society–dragging those opposed to progress along kicking and screaming like petulant children every fucking step of the way–but I had certainly hoped that a lot of this bullshit would be over and done with. I’m tired, frankly, and can’t imagine how tired everyone else must be as well–and I’ve had it relatively easy compared to many.

I was up this morning at a ridiculous hour to get my blood work done–it required fasting, so I thought I might as well get up early and get it over with so I could move on to having coffee, (which is feeling quite wonderful right about now) and now I am home. I got a shingles vaccine as well and picked up my prescriptions–I told you, that nurse practitioner is on top pf everything–and at some point this morning I have to call the mammogram place back to get that appointment set up. I do feel better about getting all of this stuff under control and handled, frankly; I know it’s a low bar, but I’ve disregarded my health so much throughout the course of my life and so regularly that it’s actually nice to be handling it.

Now, to drum up the nerve to go back to the dentist.

We had a magnificent thunderstorm last night; the kind where the rain just pours down like someone turned on a massive firehose and pointed it down at the city; where the thunderclaps last for as long as twenty seconds and are so close it seems like something exploded nearby. I do love those storms, frankly; they are quite marvelous and I love the feeling of listening to a storm raging while I am safe and warm and snug inside the house. I’ve always loved storms, ever since I was a child, and as I’ve gotten older I’ve come to love them all the more.

This week seemed to speed past; it’s hard to believe it’s already Thursday. This is an enormously pleasing change–just a few weeks ago I woke up on Wednesday, realized it was only Wednesday, and wanted to crawl into a hole and hide somewhere. We’re still watching Dark–we’re now onto the third season, and it’s amazing how they continue to not only keep the show going, but adding more timelines and things that are a bit confusing at first, but once you have it figured out you marvel at how actually seamless it was.

And on that note, i need to get back to the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader!