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.
Click Here to Read More..
Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Different Kinds of People
My life as it currently is takes me into different segments of society and sometimes it's a little confusing to get them all sorted out.
I meet a lot of religious Christians, and they assume I'm one because I don't make a habit (other than HERE) of announcing the fact that I don't currently line up with any particular conventional theology. I do go to a liberal church, though, so 2-3 days a week I am in close contact with people whose worldview is way different from people I meet other days.
Case in point: As part of my involvement with my neighborhood association, I have had the opportunity to attend local law-enforcement meetings. At the one I went to last week, there was a woman who was completely, unabashedly rabid on the subject of prostitution. She described how, when she sees a man inviting a young lady into his car, she will get behind the car, make a show of taking down the tag number, and sometimes follow one or both occupants if they later go into a nearby establishment. The police officer there had to urge her, more than once, to behave in a more circumspect manner, for her own protection. He said the local hookers are armed with two things most of the time: A blade, and a sexually transmitted disease, and very often they're high on some potent substances that make them much less likely to be intimidated by Joe or Jane Citizen. She is much better off, he said, just keeping her cell phone handy and calling the PD. Her descriptions were so vivid, it was truly fascinating.
So the following night, at a church meeting, I mentioned to a fellow congregant with whom I'm very friendly about how she ought to try attending some of these meetings -- they are true eye-openers. I mentioned that apparently our town's prostitution problems are quite something. My friend pretty much blew me off without listening to much more of what I had to say. She said, in effect, that with all that's going on in the world, people should have more to worry about than what prostitutes are doing.
This is a live-and-let-live attitude, and I share it about 75% of the time. But after having attended the meeting the night before, I had become slightly, temporarily, infused with the sense that I should, at all times, be looking out my window, prepared to call the police and report the slightest irregularity.
At work, everyone's white, respectably middle- or upper middle-class and they live in the "nice" part of town. Many of them ask me how it feels to live in my neighborhood. I look them straight in the eye and say "Well, it only takes me 10 minutes to get here every morning."
But if I internalize this and jokingly mention to someone at church that I live in "the 'hood" [ALL my neighbors call it that, unashamedly], I get disapproving looks. as in, how can you be so un-PC?
My fellow church-goers, most very well educated and mostly quite liberal politically, are of a very different mindset from my neighbors and co-workers. And as usual, I'm pretty much in the middle. Story of my life. I definitely believe that "the drug war" is making a mess of things. ~But~ I'm also happy when I hear stories of meth labs being busted, because the drug clearly devastates the users.
At least, that's what all the news stories say. But then you read columns in the off-the-beaten-track websites and papers that say no, the "meth epidemic" is simply the 21st century's version of "reefer madness," and that people really, truly need to be left alone to deal with their own vices rather than turning harmless junkies into criminals.
And where am I in all of this? I've never used pot, other than the one time someone passed me a pipe, I inhaled and felt absolutely nothing. No other drugs whatsoever. I like to drink but don't get to do it very often because more often than not, I'm the designated driver.
Oh, before I sign off, one more thing. It stopped raining a few hours ago. Now I hear gunshots. Click Here to Read More..
I meet a lot of religious Christians, and they assume I'm one because I don't make a habit (other than HERE) of announcing the fact that I don't currently line up with any particular conventional theology. I do go to a liberal church, though, so 2-3 days a week I am in close contact with people whose worldview is way different from people I meet other days.
Case in point: As part of my involvement with my neighborhood association, I have had the opportunity to attend local law-enforcement meetings. At the one I went to last week, there was a woman who was completely, unabashedly rabid on the subject of prostitution. She described how, when she sees a man inviting a young lady into his car, she will get behind the car, make a show of taking down the tag number, and sometimes follow one or both occupants if they later go into a nearby establishment. The police officer there had to urge her, more than once, to behave in a more circumspect manner, for her own protection. He said the local hookers are armed with two things most of the time: A blade, and a sexually transmitted disease, and very often they're high on some potent substances that make them much less likely to be intimidated by Joe or Jane Citizen. She is much better off, he said, just keeping her cell phone handy and calling the PD. Her descriptions were so vivid, it was truly fascinating.
So the following night, at a church meeting, I mentioned to a fellow congregant with whom I'm very friendly about how she ought to try attending some of these meetings -- they are true eye-openers. I mentioned that apparently our town's prostitution problems are quite something. My friend pretty much blew me off without listening to much more of what I had to say. She said, in effect, that with all that's going on in the world, people should have more to worry about than what prostitutes are doing.
This is a live-and-let-live attitude, and I share it about 75% of the time. But after having attended the meeting the night before, I had become slightly, temporarily, infused with the sense that I should, at all times, be looking out my window, prepared to call the police and report the slightest irregularity.
At work, everyone's white, respectably middle- or upper middle-class and they live in the "nice" part of town. Many of them ask me how it feels to live in my neighborhood. I look them straight in the eye and say "Well, it only takes me 10 minutes to get here every morning."
But if I internalize this and jokingly mention to someone at church that I live in "the 'hood" [ALL my neighbors call it that, unashamedly], I get disapproving looks. as in, how can you be so un-PC?
My fellow church-goers, most very well educated and mostly quite liberal politically, are of a very different mindset from my neighbors and co-workers. And as usual, I'm pretty much in the middle. Story of my life. I definitely believe that "the drug war" is making a mess of things. ~But~ I'm also happy when I hear stories of meth labs being busted, because the drug clearly devastates the users.
At least, that's what all the news stories say. But then you read columns in the off-the-beaten-track websites and papers that say no, the "meth epidemic" is simply the 21st century's version of "reefer madness," and that people really, truly need to be left alone to deal with their own vices rather than turning harmless junkies into criminals.
And where am I in all of this? I've never used pot, other than the one time someone passed me a pipe, I inhaled and felt absolutely nothing. No other drugs whatsoever. I like to drink but don't get to do it very often because more often than not, I'm the designated driver.
Oh, before I sign off, one more thing. It stopped raining a few hours ago. Now I hear gunshots. Click Here to Read More..
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