Monday, March 31, 2008

No more Darvocet for you, Missy!

I have this really bad tendency to stay up too late when work beckons the next morning -- Carl is forever scolding me about that -- so when I've abused the clock for 3-4 nights in a row, I will semi-often take a Tylenol PM around 7:30 to ensure that my eyes droop, I get off the computer and get myself to bed. Well, last night I tried a variation. I noticed a bottle of Darvocets in the cabinet, left over from when I had a root canal. I hate to see good prescription meds go to waste, and various parts of my body have been aching and sometimes just one good strong analgesic will keep that at bay for a remarkably long time. Darvocets don't make me itch and feel sick the way Lortabs did, so I took one. It worked very slowly in my system -- I didn't feel sleepy until nearly 11pm, which kind of defeats the purpose of taking it in the first place...

It did make me feel very peaceful and cozy -- I lay half awake listening to the sounds of total silence in the house and beyond. That's rare. We don't live next to a freeway, but our street is busy enough and the road behind us even more so. But for the longest time I didn't even hear normal traffic sounds. The bed was not too cold, not too warm, just right. The cat behaved himself for a change and didn't make any sounds to leave me wondering what he had decided to destroy this time.

It certainly rested my body, inducing a sort of mild numbness. But my mind turned, twirled and whirled all night. Mostly what went through it were thoughts of the crappy car I bought Wally last year, and how the dealer is sooner or later going to put the hammer down on me to either pay for it to be towed back to him or to pay off the remainder of the loan. It comes to about $600. And when this happens, it is sure to be at the worst possible time. Even worse than the present time!

Over the weekend I calculated our taxes and we're going to end up paying because I took a distribution out of my retirement acct to pay Wally's med bills and it jacked our adjusted gross way up. I don't see any way around this, other than just agreeing to pay the IRS in installments. So once again, the squeeze is on. I dreamed about Wally hanging the phone up on me, which is probably because Doug called last night and we talked about Wally. Doug said he tries to tell himself that Wally's occasional weirdness "has to do with the fact that he's still a kid." Well, fucking DUH! It would have been nice to have such sensible, generous thoughts BEFORE you put Wally on anti-psychotic meds and then kicked him out of the house, you son of a bitch.

Oh, and I itched a little too and woke up with a headache over my left eye. Bye-bye generic substitute for Vicodin. I guess I'll just dump it in the trash, since you're not supposed to flush meds.

Today feels like one of those days when going to work is an escape from here. It wasn't a bad weekend overall, but work is just easier to cope with sometimes. At least there I have a supervisor and team-mates. Here, I'm on my own when it comes to making decisions. I don't mind being in control, but it sure would be nice to have backup. Carl has little understanding of personal macroeconomics -- he leaves it all to me. It's only when everything gets to be too much and I have an emotional meltdown that he comes to my aid.

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