Ativan, My Good Sir

DUDE. DUDE. DUDE.

I've been trying to wait to write until I can fully explain things. Well, actually, I'll never be able to fully explain things. Just sort of mention them. Casually. But damn it right now I go from being in a fog to almost losing my shit. I am waking up after clenching my jaw so badly while I sleep that the edges of my night guard are stabbing my gums. Also, due to that which I cannot yet mention, I can't tell if other things are really as bad as I think they are, or if I'm just freaking out. Like work - holy shit. I had like five days off and then I went back yesterday. Normally, I can keep my cool, but I was yelling at patients yesterday. And today, I got snappy with a doctor and nearly yelled at him. Never mind he is a damn man, and it's pretty much his baseline. Also, as most of the free world knows, I have a fucking hole in my roof. Like, between the size of a golf ball and a tennis ball. I called it in to my prop mgt co on Tuesday and still haven't been serviced yet. Oh, and it's rained the last two days. But, since I'm one determined bitch, I shimmied my ass up to the roof and duct taped it yesterday. Also, I crawled in the attic and put a bin under the hole. BUT I DON'T OWN THIS FUCKING HOUSE. THIS IS PART OF THE REASON WE STILL RENT - SO OTHER PEOPLE HANDLE THIS SHIT. And when one finds a fucking hole in their roof where rain and whatever else can come in at their leisure, I would assume it'd be an emergency. But no. To top that off, my fog has prevented me from clearly thinking about it. I'm nervous or something in that I've had to ask several people their opinions to see whether I'm justfied in my anger. WTF? I have a hole in my roof. Of course I'm justified in my anger. Which is why if I don't hear from anyone tomorrow, I'm going to write a scathing letter and threaten to pull in a health inspector and JAG. Today I was too much of a chicken shit to call a third day in a row, and since my daddy told me to wait 'til tomorrow, then that's what I'll do. (What's wrong with me?)

Geez. I'm on a roll. What else. Oh - the house is a mess. I can't keep straight the unpacking, the decorating, and the regular cleaning. Everything's just sort of exploding. Also, I have no real food. I have not shopped for food. I wish my mother was here to cook for me. MOM, come help me...if only you still lived in MS. And since it's now in my head, "MA!! THE MEATLOAF!!"

Now to look on the bright side...two good things: 1) I have $1000 in checks sitting on my kitchen counter right now - got our full deposit back from last prop manager (who I wish like hell we still worked with). 2) I got my primary care physician switched to the lady doc I wanted. And that, my friends, is a big deal. Because when I get into those stirrups with all my lady problems, I do not want to talk to Dr. Patel, the male I was assigned to previously, about it. No no no. And I'm not a weenie; I have had male doctors. Shit, I've shaken hands and formally met a male attending doctor while a female resident, female nurse, and male med student all stared at my junk amdist the exam. I can do it. I just don't want to anymore.

And with that, I know I've really derailed. It's time to stop. I'm going to bed.