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Monday, July 28, 2008
Churlish in the Dog Days
I'm tired and pissed off and sad. And My Administrator is fed up with me. I have been experiencing these cardiac events, as my E Cardio heart monitor techs call them when I have to unload the days happenings into the phone. I don't notice the events, I just feel churlish, tired, and incapable of doing the simplest things--as if I left the house that is my brain, and some moron has inhabited it in my absence. And the weather isn't helping.
Over the past few days it's been 105 in the shade of the gazebo. And then out of nowhere a single cloud forms and then one crack of lightening and my house gets a surge that knocks out everything. Yes my friends, I did not own a surge protector. No, I just "forgot" to put it on my shopping list. No I'm not a complete moron, just a moron in some areas. Those parts of my brain not engaged in foraging for food and the fistfull of pills I take each day and finding a place that isn't out of my smokes, is about the limit of what I feel I can do at this particular point in my rush toward the grim reaper. I'm wired up like frankenstein, with a monitor hanging from my neck that's like wearing an especially ugly neckless that weighs too much--the wires dangle, and it's too hot to wear anything that would make this unsightly mess less visible, so I go around with wires hanging, and my monitor swinging jauntily from my tired neck. I'm fed up and very tired and really cranky.
After the second or third surge, my Administrator told me to "GET A GOOD SURGE PROTECTOR OR YOU WILL KILL YOUR COMPUTER, and in his tone was the last bit, but not exactly said, YOU MORON. I am grateful to my Administrator, and I'm obedient like a five year old to his shouted orders. So I got the most expensive surge protector I could find. I unplugged the tangle of cords, and reinstalled the important ones, and then BAM, another surge. Well, thank god, I was "protected." None of this makes me less cranky or surly or irritable. Part of this irritably is the result of the antidepressant change, and the heat isn't helping, and the heart going haywire several times a day for no fucking reason, and the extreme fatigue of it all. Could this be the big ennui that is old age and the approach of the sweetly smiling grim reaper creeping up on me? It's probably all of the above. But then, in response to a too desperate email and a couple of whiny emails I sent my Administrator followed by a day of silence from him, I got a very pissed off email back. I don't doubt that I deserved his scorn and impatience, but it hurt my feelings. And since I feel like one ragged exposed and overused nerve, I shut down my computer and took to bed.
And a damn good thing it was. A storm blew in and knocked the power out in the whole neighborhood. So, no fan, no swamp cooler, no TV, no lights, one candle, and fortunately one flashlight that worked. So after a night of too much time to think, and a restless sweaty sleep-- I'm in no better mood, but I will not yet give up the blogging, and I will continue to swear like a drunken sailor, and I will, eventually, slowly edit my fiction again.
PS . So to console myself, I made a luscious fresh peach cobbler because it's peach season, and I'm finally tired of cornbread.
Oh, and I almost forgot--the three molars on the lower right side of my jaw have become abscessed, and need to be pulled, cut out, whatever. But because of the heart thing and the big dose of blood thinners, I can't have this little painful problem dealt with. I can't afford it anyway. So I stay on antibiotics to keep the pain to a low simmer. Did I say I can't afford it? Medicare does not cover dental emergencies. But even if they did, I still couldn't get this last indignity taken care of.
Over the past few days it's been 105 in the shade of the gazebo. And then out of nowhere a single cloud forms and then one crack of lightening and my house gets a surge that knocks out everything. Yes my friends, I did not own a surge protector. No, I just "forgot" to put it on my shopping list. No I'm not a complete moron, just a moron in some areas. Those parts of my brain not engaged in foraging for food and the fistfull of pills I take each day and finding a place that isn't out of my smokes, is about the limit of what I feel I can do at this particular point in my rush toward the grim reaper. I'm wired up like frankenstein, with a monitor hanging from my neck that's like wearing an especially ugly neckless that weighs too much--the wires dangle, and it's too hot to wear anything that would make this unsightly mess less visible, so I go around with wires hanging, and my monitor swinging jauntily from my tired neck. I'm fed up and very tired and really cranky.
After the second or third surge, my Administrator told me to "GET A GOOD SURGE PROTECTOR OR YOU WILL KILL YOUR COMPUTER, and in his tone was the last bit, but not exactly said, YOU MORON. I am grateful to my Administrator, and I'm obedient like a five year old to his shouted orders. So I got the most expensive surge protector I could find. I unplugged the tangle of cords, and reinstalled the important ones, and then BAM, another surge. Well, thank god, I was "protected." None of this makes me less cranky or surly or irritable. Part of this irritably is the result of the antidepressant change, and the heat isn't helping, and the heart going haywire several times a day for no fucking reason, and the extreme fatigue of it all. Could this be the big ennui that is old age and the approach of the sweetly smiling grim reaper creeping up on me? It's probably all of the above. But then, in response to a too desperate email and a couple of whiny emails I sent my Administrator followed by a day of silence from him, I got a very pissed off email back. I don't doubt that I deserved his scorn and impatience, but it hurt my feelings. And since I feel like one ragged exposed and overused nerve, I shut down my computer and took to bed.
And a damn good thing it was. A storm blew in and knocked the power out in the whole neighborhood. So, no fan, no swamp cooler, no TV, no lights, one candle, and fortunately one flashlight that worked. So after a night of too much time to think, and a restless sweaty sleep-- I'm in no better mood, but I will not yet give up the blogging, and I will continue to swear like a drunken sailor, and I will, eventually, slowly edit my fiction again.
PS . So to console myself, I made a luscious fresh peach cobbler because it's peach season, and I'm finally tired of cornbread.
Oh, and I almost forgot--the three molars on the lower right side of my jaw have become abscessed, and need to be pulled, cut out, whatever. But because of the heart thing and the big dose of blood thinners, I can't have this little painful problem dealt with. I can't afford it anyway. So I stay on antibiotics to keep the pain to a low simmer. Did I say I can't afford it? Medicare does not cover dental emergencies. But even if they did, I still couldn't get this last indignity taken care of.
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