The Not Happy Thread

That's tough, but soon you'll be the direction he runs.

 

Ugh, that always cuts me deep, too. Thankfully it changes like the tides.

 

I thought I'd been nominated for a blog award and was quite flattered/excited. Then I read on and to accept my "nomination" I have to write a blog post about how wonderful the award is and nominate five more bloggers. This goes on forever and nobody actually wins.

So I've actually just been included in an e-chain-letter. That hasn't happened to me since about 2003.

 

This pulse thing has me irritated. I have my CCL and I have half a mind to start carrying around a concealed firearm just incase some idiot decides they want to start popping off rounds somewhere I'm at.

 

Last night, I awoke in the middle of the night with an urge to piss. So, I went to the bathroom and did my business. Sometime between pulling up my pants and washing my hands, I must have gotten dazed for some reason. All I know is that I was standing in front of the sink, then, the next thing I know, I'm falling.
I get up. I'm covered in blood and I'm mentally stunned. I panic for a bit because of the amount of the blood, but it is all a bright cherry color so, that's good, right? Eventually, I gain some clarity of thought and grab a wash cloth to clean up with. Fortunately, the blood isn't as bad as it had first appeared to be. Somehow, I had pushed a tooth _through_ my lower lip. It had already come back out of the hole, but now my bottom lip is pierced.
Still a bit stunned, I return to bed. I'm beginning to worry about why I fell. It was as if I had momentarily been dazed. Also, when I fell, my jaw hit a cabinet door and a seven inch splinter came loose.

I told my brother this morning about accidentally damaging his cabinet door and about having fallen with no idea why I fell.
He rushed upstairs to examine the damage, then he left to go to work.
Later today, he contacted our mother (who also lives with us) with a stream of complaints and rage asking "why is flushing the toilet after a piss so hard for him (that is to say, 'me') to do?"
This has made me upset. I explained to him that I was stunned and covered in blood and concerned about whatever had caused me to fall in the first place and had just forgotten to flush the toilet.
He said nothing as if he was restraining himself so we wouldn't argue, not that he'd consider even discussing this.

I feel he is being extremely petty.

 

I was attacked by a midget last night. He tried to mug me but I ran away.

 

Lol I gripe about a lot. Cars, idiots, Scarlet Witch needing more screen time, life, life and life are a few of my favorites.

 

if its yellow let it mellow

 

My neighborhood is gentrifying at a alarming rate. Plenty of closed storefronts and scaffolding on buildings. Our Mayor is a joke. A large supermarket closed by some projects some years back and now it's being replaced by a luxury condo. Even if you could somehow afford rent, where can you go for food?

The community was trying to get some zoning laws passed to slow things down, but like most politicians, they did nothing but pay lip service.

 

Two things:

• I went into surgery to remove some of my cheeks for lab testing. They stitched it up and everything. Now my right cheek is slightly swollen and hurts.

• I have a condition known as "Psychopsychological Insomnia," what I refer to as sleep anxiety. It began in early Sep 2014 and diminished dramatically by Oct 2015, being almost gone completely. I've been going strong for over 8 months now. Now, I would've put this in the happy thread, but it's starting to resurface a bit because my ongoing insomnia is getting worse.

 

I believe that applies only to public toilets. In private areas, you'd have piss sitting in the commode for 24 hours or more which I don't think is very hygienic.

 

As someone who deals with insomnia as well, I understand how frustrating this can be. I hope this is temporary.

 

I just thought of a way to change one of my subplots which will make the story much more interesting. It's probably going to mean another month of rewrites.

 

I have to go to work from 9-2 tomorrow AND THEN go back from 5-9:30 (although it'll be more like around 10-10:30). Bleh. I don't want to work a double but I'm going on vacation next week and I could use the money while I'm still in town.

I also have to make this Friday's paycheck last til next week through this trip PLUS rent PLUS whatever else comes up, AND my shitty landlord from the previous apartment hasn't given back our security deposit yet and he has til tomorrow to return it.

 

I realized the other day that I'm not particularly good at anything.

 

Usually, being good at something isn't a natural ability. It takes practice & sometimes training. I was a shitty student, then I went off to pharmacy school & needed to learn how to learn. Then I was a crappy pharmacy technician. It took a year before I felt competent. Eventually, I became an okay pharmacist. Took a few years before other pharmacists came to me with their questions. After that, I switched to nuclear pharmacy & had to start all over again.
I also spent several years being a bad poker player. You don't want to sit at my table these days, I crush newcomers.
Now I'm a shitty writer. And I'm going to keep being a shitty writer until I practice enough to get better at it.

Keep doing it because you like doing it. Find out what you're doing wrong and be willing to fix it.

 

I'm tired of coming home from physical therapy or waking up in the morning to find my mom, who is 76 years old, visibly stressed and, sometimes, talking in a whisper. She does it so as not to disturb my brother, the asshole.
Mom and I were living in a place with an affordable rent (which is hard to do considering that I'm waiting for my social security disability to be approved) when he invited us to move into his home. He said he had no intention of ever returning to our city and that we could stay in his home for as long as we wanted to. Then, he moved to the Middle East.
Then, right about the time that all my savings have been wiped out, he moved back home. He wants us out of the place. But, we can't just get up and move. We're financially strapped. So, we got some time to get a place to move to. We're in a waiting list for Section 8 housing. In the meantime, he has been an absolute terror. For example, he raised hell because one of the drawers mom emptied for him had a sheet of paper in it which she didn't see. (note: she has retinitis pigmentosa and is completely blind in one eye with a 10% visual field in the other).
He claimed that I destroyed the carpet in one room, but gave no thanks for the month and a half or so of work I did restoring his back porch deck while he was in the Middle East (I did that despite having a spinal injury which causes chronic pain and could work for no more than an hour or so each day due to my physical disability). I had to sand off every board to remove all the collected dirt from seven years or so of neglect (which occurred before we moved in).
I don't care what he does to me, but I'm getting very angry at what he does to mom and the fact that I'm powerless to do anything about it (after all, he could just kick us out at any time) just makes it that much worse.

 

When I work a couple days in a row at the grocery store on my feet, my feet and ankles get really swollen and I get red blotches on the inside of both my ankles. It usually goes away after being off work for a few days in a row. Well I finally went to the doctor today about it, and she took what seemed like a gallon of blood to do some very specific tests. She said it could either be a vein problem, or... an auto-immune problem. Here's crossing my fingers that it isn't an auto-immune one.

 

Sounds more like a vein problem to me. I know a few people with autoimmune disorders of one form or another, and that doesn't seem to track.

 

Lupus can produce rash to the legs. I'm sure there's others but that's the one that comes to mind first.

 

I don't think they're usually symmetrical, and they arise as a result of the autoimmune activity, as I understand it, not something like standing.

 

I've been really struggling with the issue of having the last word in a conversation.

 

I hope so, but I'm reading that it could be signs of Lupus. Lupus would also explain the swelling of the feet and ankles.

 

I hope it's not that, Lewdog. I have a friend with Lupus, but in general those kinds of attacks on her body don't seem to be tied solely to physical activity. The attack on her body flares up from time to time and it doesn't matter if she's been active or not at that point. However, I'm just looking at anecdotal evidence here.

 

Well the Lupus would explain the renal failure I had back last year when I passed out and broke my leg. They thought it was the blood pressure medicine I was on at the time, Lisinopril, and took me off of it.