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So on Friday, I had to pay a visit to the doctor. I’m trying to get FMLA at work. Not so much because I need it but I’ve been out of work before due to illness and written up. You can only miss so many days before there’s the possibility of being fired.

I was asked if I was doing anything fun with my day off and I said “I’m going to the doctor to get poked and yelled at, not my idea of a fun time.” Also, while I didn’t realize it, I was suffering from depression. Every year, like clockwork, my normal, regular depression starts pressing in more and goes from lower case to upper case Depression. Last year, I ended up screaming and crying at Kari and Kim about how they hated me and I was all alone and blah, blah, life sucks, blah, pity me, blah. Long story short (too late), Kim pointed out what time of year it was. I am not only bipolar but I have what a former therapist referred to as “milestone triggers.” So my birthday is a huge trigger for me. I’m sure I’ve written about my former “friend” that used to, every year on March 1st, say “Dana, your birthday is on March 11th and you’re going to be how old? What have you accomplished with your life?” Then I would sit there and try to defend myself and he would shoot down every response I made to prove that, once again, I was nothing. Obviously I know I am not nothing now but it was hard to realize it back then.

Anyway, this is the first time ever that I’ve been able to realize what was going on. I’ve got some major stress things going on right now (including the fact that I’m torn between loving and hating my job) and I caught myself on Friday morning thinking “What good am I? What purpose does my life serve? Have I accomplished anything?”

Whoa. What purpose does my life serve? Former “friend’s” specter (and I can never say that without the quotation marks, I even make air quotes when I mention him) was rearing his ugly head. He used to say that my purpose in life was to make people laugh. Which doesn’t sound so bad until you tie it in with what he meant – I wasn’t supposed to make people laugh with me, I was supposed to make them laugh at me because I was so ridiculous and fat and stupid and whatever thing he wanted to say to bring me down.

So, I talked to Deb, I brought up how I’ve been feeling lately, and we discussed treatment. We can’t up my meds because I’m at the highest FDA approved dosage of Effexor (or faux Effexor since I’m on the generic version of it). But since I’ve realized what’s happened and talked about it, I feel better. I feel almost euphoric. It’s important that I’ve figured out what was going on.

What was this about? Oh, yes, things I’m loving.

  1. Pinterest. I am so freaking addicted, it’s not even funny. The ideas, the thoughts, the crafts! I’ve found so many things that I’m going to try and, even better, am now looking at Anthropologie and Pottery Barn and instead of thinking, oh, I’ll never be able to afford that, am thinking “Hey, I bet I could make that.” Also, if you happen to have a couple extra thousands lying around, I’d really like this bike. It’s pretty.
  2. Reading. I’ve always loved to read and being able to go to the library is awesome. I also got a Kindle for Christmas and do you have any idea how many free books are out there? I may look into self-publishing someday. You know, if I ever finish a book. This year I resolved to actually keep track of what I read and have been faithful about using Good Reads to do so. Which reminds me, got to track Catherine McKenzie’s Arranged, finished it last night. I liked it.
  3. Getting (slowly) back into blogging. I’m going to try to post once or twice a week month. Let’s be honest here. I’m not good at the blogging thing.
  4. Recognizing that I was depressed. It’s weird to realize that I love that but I do.

New Year’s Resolution (yes, again)

I resolve to NEVER EVER work on my birthday again. Ever. My birthday sucked. It’s extremely busy around here because of stupid Tax Season and there was a very large merger between Gigantic Company and Not as Gigantic Company (but still pretty big) and I received approximately 60 questions about this in two weeks. 10 just on my birthday. Then Kari, Eric and Josh took me out for dinner to this place that gives you a free steak for your birthday. Except that they cancelled that promotion. Awesome. I still ordered a steak and a baked potato. Baked potato was cold. Steak was ordered to be medium and was rare. Blech.

The next day, I worked until noon and Beth came to get me with Kurka. So the horrors of the week pretty much dissolved once that adorable puppy started giving me kisses.

Beth and I spent the weekend scrapbooking. Sort of. I completed one page. We listened to Stephen King audio books. Beth worked on making embellishments for scrapbook pages and I took IKEA frames and made them pretty by covering them in stamps. I should have taken pictures of them.

Friday we went and got Chinese food (remember this, it’s important for later). Saturday we met James at Moe’s and discussed Lost. Sunday we went to TGI Friday’s with her Dad and her Grandmother (it was her Grandmother’s birthday). It was a lot of fun! I was able to completely relax and forget about work.

I came home Sunday night and my hands started itching in the parking lot. Not sure why, just really, really itchy. I wanted to tear the skin off which is never a good sign. Monday morning I woke up and my hands were swollen. Huh. What caused that? No clue. Now what am I allergic to? Probably work.

Turns out that, if I drink a lot of pop over the weekend, hardly any water and eat Chinese food, my body reacts in a fun new way. And by fun new way, I mean, WTF, body, seriously, do you have to do this to me every year? Since I turned 40, things just went downhill. I think my warranty may have expired.

The Cleaning Fairy

When I came home Monday, I noticed that the huge pile of boxes Keem and I kept behind the couch are gone. The floor has been vacuumed. Huh. What happened? Apparently my sister got bored and decided to clean. Kim has a tight look on her face and I am convinced she’s mad at me. She tells me nothing’s wrong and to go put my stuff away. I went to my bedroom, walked in the door and almost had a heart attack. Kari must have been extremely bored because my room is beautiful and clean and my bed is even made. Scary! But in a good way.

I hope you all had a good weekend!

Last night, in between dashes to the bathroom, Keem and I were watching Whose Line is it Anyway? (Oh, my God, how I love that show, Colin Mochrie, if you ever decide to leave your wife and come see me, I’m in Minnesota), the British version. We have this recorded on our pretty shiny DVR and Keem was fast forwarding through the commercials when we saw yet another commercial for Doctor Who. I used to love the show when I was 16 but haven’t seen any of the recent epsidoes. Pretty shiny Doctor Who who is played by the really hot guy who played Raymond Calitri in Gone in 60 Seconds.

Anyway, in this commercial, he is staring directly at you (well, the camera but you know what I mean).

DW: Do you want to come with me?

Keem and I have had responses to this, usually along the lines of “Yes, please” and “Oh, you are so very pretty” but Keem topped them all last night.

Keem: You can Doctor my Who anytime.
DM (falling over with laughter): What?
Keem: You heard me.
DM: I am so blogging that.
Keem: No! You can’t!
DM: Oh, yes. Yes, I will.

You would think that, with all of the enjoyment we get out of watching the commercial, we’d actually watch the show but not yet. Maybe when our 453 episodes of Whose Line have all been watched (this is what you get when you do a series record).

Oh, and proof positive that my happy pills are working, the other day I had to take a bus. I got on the bus and the three or four men in the back of the bus started making comments about how I was a big woman and also “El Grande.” Now, instead of focusing on the fact that they were criticizing my weight and how I must climb into a hole because I’m just a big fat cow that doesn’t deserve to walk the planet, instead I thought “Hmm. Technically, when you call me ‘El Grande,’ you’re calling me ‘The Big.'” Of course, they weren’t Hispanic but still, dudes. If you’re going to insult me, get it right.

I may adopt that as my new title. Instead of the Queen of the Universe, you may find me signing documents as The Big. It kind of has a nice ring to it.

And I decided on a New Year’s Resolution. The Mountain Dew has to go. I’m not so sure that I can continue to blame my recent weight gain on Seraquel and may need to focus on the four or five cans I manage to drink every other day or so. Stupid Mountain Dew. Why must you be so yummy?

July 2018
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