Pimpin' Out -Veggie Style

I feel:: like I need more coffee and a visit with the Sci-fi channel

Don't forget to visit Scooter on his 9th Green. He's got a really funny post today about the differences in talent between Clay Aiken and Fergie (Actually I think they're running at about a dead heat there, except that Fergie's prettier. I'm sure that irks Clay to no end.

Soooo, my therapy appt. yesterday: My therapist is going to add another anti-depressant to the Prozac that I'm already taking; a drug called Limictal (not sure if that's spelled right) because evidently I'm in a "vegetative depressed state" and the Limictal combined with the Prozac and the Klonopin is supposed to help me rise from my vegetable grave.

I really can't argue with the "depressed state". I hate to be thought of as "vegetative", though. It's true that I have trouble functioning on a day-to-day basis. Meaning: somedays I function and some days I don't. There are, unfortunately more not functioning days than functioning days, or at least that's what it feels like. I've heard people say that it's easier to remember the bad days than the good ones. Maybe that's true and I have more good days than I am crediting myself for.

Well, yesterday after my appt. I did indeed "vegetate". I got home from my appt. at about 9:30-9:40. Speaking of which, [rant] to get to the neighborhood I live in, you have to drive down this one two-lane road with no shoulder. After you get to the end of said road,everything spreads out and a person could go wherever, but while you are on this road, there are no side streets or connecting streets. Nada. Which brings me to my bitch about that: Yesterday after my therapy appt., I was feeling like shit after being told I was in a "vegetative depressed state" and all I wanted to do was get home. I pulled up to the four-way stop which leads to the afore mentioned skinny two-lane road only to find it blocked by a cop car with all it's bells and whistles blaring and the cop standing out in the middle of the intersection directing people not to go down that way. That's all fine and dandy, except that is pretty much the only way to get to my house. So, I had to make a 20-minute drive in the complete opposite direction of my house and then wend my way through another residential area to get to the four-way stop where I turn off to go to my house. I remember as I was driving up to that intersection thinking hotly,"God-dammit, if there are any cars coming down Vimy Ridge Rd...." and there were, not only that, but also there were cars turning onto it going the opposite direction. (I wished at that moment that I had one of those HUGE clown hands so I could get out of my car, flip everybody off and they would definitely be able to see and understand what that gesture meant.) So, I was pissed that I had to go twenty minutes out of my way into an area that I was totally not familiar with only to be greeted by at least 6 dead end roads that I attempted to go down thinking that they would go all the way through to the other side of this residential area (I don't know why I thought that. Silly me. I should've known that all roads end abrubtly with a view of a trailer park or the ass end of some rich person's horse.) all the while feeling like I could stab my eyes repeatedly with sharpened pencils. Fucking people and their fucking dead end roads. [/rant]

If you haven't figured it out by now, let me tell you: I live in B.F.E (other wise known as "Bumfucked Egypt"{no offense to Egypt as a country, it's just a redneck thing}, otherwise known as "redneck-ville", or "the middle of nowhere"). I don't know if anyone uses that term except for people in small southern towns. Hence some things, well most things, people do around here don't make a lot of sense to me. Not that I'm uber-cosmopolitan by any means (I do have a pair of shit-kickers, but I only wear them when I go to the state fair because they're ideal for those instances when you misstep yourself right into a cow patty). It's just that I can't wrap my brain around some things that go on out here.

Anyway, back to the afore mentioned "vegetative" thing. It hit me pretty hard when my therapist said that. So much so that the classes I had intended on going to yesterday, I did not make. I even had a test in Spanish class and at that time yesterday, I really didn't give two shits if I missed it or not. I slept all day; I woke up at 6pm, then went back to bed at 10:30pm and slept right through until my alarm went off this morning at 7am. I don't really want to go to class today, although, I should find out what I made on my math test today that I took on Tuesday. I'm prepared to be one of two things: elated or suicidal once I get the results.

I hate to be thought of as "vegetative". It's as if my therapist painted a picture for me to see myself like I'd just gotten a helluva shot of Thorazine, drooling on myself, wearing a diaper and doing the crazy person shuffle (If you don't know what I mean by "crazy person shuffle", get a copy of 'One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest' with Jack Nicholson. You'll understand).

Well, if I am indeed going to go to class today, I'd better start getting ready. God, why does everything have to be so hard to do?

Edit: I don't think I'll be going to Math class this morning. Hopefully, I can make it to my Physical Geo. Lecture and Lab later this evening. I was going to go, but now it's too late to get ready and go.


(Read: I spent too much time on the computer and now if I try to go to class I'll be horribly late and the door will be locked; I'll have to knock on it; the whole class will be interrupted and someone will have to open the door for me and then I'll have to walk in front of the entire class while they all stare at me (no telling what people are thinking, but I always think they think they very worst things of me) until I am able to find a seat in the much-too-small desks that should only be reserved for junior high school students.) It's amazing what we (I) can justify to ourselves (myself), isn't it?



Blogger Scooter said...

Thanks for the kind words and letting me spend the week here. Although I'm sucure in my manhood in saying that Aiken is prettier just because Fergie looks like a dude and he look more feminime.

I hope the new drug is working.

September 21, 2006 5:40 PM  
Blogger Anias Nin said...

You're my first ever renter, so I've enjoyed pimping you out. :D

You really think Fergie looks like a dude? I've always thought she was really pretty. It seems as though, unfortunately, she's not in the Black-Eyed Peas because of her talent, but because of her "humps", which is unfortunate. I hate to see women succumb to mysogyny just to make a little money (well, in her case it's probably a lot of money).

As for Clay Aiken, I have never been able to stomach him. It's not that I hate his music, it's more that I just think he's positioned himself to be more of a product (like ketchup or pickles or cheese) than a real musician. Admittedly, the same could be said for Fergie as well.

As for the Limictal, I haven't started taking it yet. My therapist didn't write me a prescription on Wednesday. Hopefully, he will next week. To be quite honest, I don't know how long I can go with this frame of mind I'm in now. May as well get that shot of Thorazine ready.

September 22, 2006 11:52 AM  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

Listed on BlogShares Personal Top Blogs blogarama - the blog directory My BlogMad Ranking

Add to Technorati Favorites Subscribe with Bloglines

Subscribe to
Posts [

Web Pages referring to this page
Link to this page and get a link back!

Creative Commons License

Powered by Blogger

My blog is worth $3,387.24.
How much is your blog worth?