Saturday, April 30, 2005

Not Dead, just Dead Tired

Hello my six readers, I am alive. Writhing on the floor with concern, you were, I'm sure.

Fear not: body and soul are still one.

I just needed time to get used to the upped amount of meds. Against Dr E.'s advice, I've continued taking the full amount in the morning instead of splitting the dose to half in the morning and the remainder at night. I didn't rebel against the advice out of some knee-jerk reaction or I-think-I-know-better attitude, but more out of concern of forgetting to take the second half. Some nights I work, others I don't, not a real regularity of schedule. Plus I can get distracted by shiny--- oooh, look! Headlights moving across the wall, anyway, what was I saying?

So, I must peak on the meds somewhere in the middle of the afternoon because come dusk, I'm yawning like an English major in an Economics class (or maybe that's just me). And the touches of nausea--blecch. When I finally make it home, I just crash the fuck out. I fight to stay awake, but to no avail. It has gotten better the past couple of days though.

Also, I'm trying to get some things done around the old apartment. I'm trying to fix up my section of the Corner Quad in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there...I mean, in hopes of starting to invite people over. I'm entertaining the idea of entertaining. Maybe a couple of co-workers or a few friends, maybe even at the same time for drinks! One co-worker has been asking when I'm having her and hers over for drinks this last week, and it got me thinking that I really should. I'm just not 100% digging on the way the place looks as of right now.

On top of cleaning and rearranging, I'm stressing on this change of venues for my meds and therapy. Being without Health Insurance, I must go where the system pushes/allows me. I've set up an Intake Interview May 23rd at one of these places which is scary enough, but the place is also in a skeevey area (above a liquor store--both sad and convenient) and the interview takes place one week after my last Primary meeting. The lady on the phone said there is a waiting list of like 3-6 weeks or something after the interview until treatment can start. I think. Just the idea of running out of meds scares the shit out of me. I do not want to go back to the situation I was in for the last two years. She said to show up early to fill out paperwork to get a Medical Card which I am sure I won't qualify for since I work.

Oh well, we'll see.

Other than that, I've been getting back into my Playstation2; playing Killzone and NCAA Football 2005 (Ohio State Buckeyes Rule!) in the afternoons of my days off. And trying to catch up on my neglected New Yorkers and trying to (finally) read The Prince, but slow going on both counts.

This was a nice thing to wake up and discover today (see last paragraph). Thank you, again, Young Manhattanite.

Okay Lilly is waving at me, telling me it's time for bed, and Pertney is already asleep. Talk to you all later.

3 comments:

mike said...

you talkin' 'bout partying at the crib!?! Let's 'cause a ruckus like your old neighbors!

Arsh said...

Party at Dave's!! I'll spread the word. Oh, umm, I am invited, right, right? But, wait, who from Crate is invited? That may determine whether or not I'll come. How are you? And how come you never emailed me back??? sob, sob, sniffle, sob, blow, sob...

Mac said...

Who's this Dave you refer to? I'm Mac. But if he throws down a party when it warms up, it'll be a wee thing. Not like the all-night triple keggers with the Phenomes rawking illegally in the basement to which Mike alludes. More like cheap booze, hide'n'seek with Lilly, Playstation2, pizza, and intellectual/silly conversation among pals.
As for Harshly-Yah! coming? We shall see... ;-p