Cranky Bear(s)
Trish has returned to being Cranky Bear, on the eve of our 2nd anniversary, & it has me scared. Years ago, when the dread Blanket-man first moved her into the house, everything was perfect for 3 months -- then she became Cranky Bear & I kicked her out; I just couldn't live with this angry, shouting person, & now she's acting that way again.
It began Wednesday evening, just around supper time. I'd planned on having tuna noodle (Bumblebee Tuna -- no, it's Albertson's) but she decided the pasta would make me fat(ter) & forbade me to fix it. This was because Dr. Vicki had told her that a lot of men gain weight when they first go to college, because they can't cook anything but pasta. Since she threw a fit, I had to go down in the basement (I need my head examined; I need my eyes excited) & take out some hamburger from the deep freeze, so we could have sloppy joes. But the meat was still frozen & the old microwave had busted, to be replaced by Trish's (from down in the basement), so I overcooked the meat trying to thaw it, & she complained it was "chewy" & wound up throwing about 1/2 her sandwich, like some species of spoiled child.
Then yesterday (you seemed so far away), I had an appointment with Dr. Nolan about my blood pressure -- Atacand wasn't covered on the Medicaid approved drug list, & the Diovan was making my blood pressure too low; dizzy-dizzy. He simply cut the dose in 1/2. But immediately prior to that, I'd been weighed, & found out that I'd lost at least 12 pounds, which surprised me following the MisCon hot dogs, geekolissa delicious & salty chips.
When I returned home, Trish had already left for work -- which was good; she'd been driving with Ms. Trisha & at least hadn't wrecked the car or been hurt. Car-girl had told me it was supposed to storm, so after supper, rather than risk frying my computer, I watched TV. Then she called about 8:10 & said she was getting a ride with Bryan. As soon as she was home, I told her I'd lost 12 pounds, because I was happy, but then added something about the pasta, which is like yeah, I really wish she'd quit nagging me about the diet, especially after Karen explained that bread or potatoes can be just as bad; it's the portion size that matters, not that it's "pasta" & "pasta" is the only thing that makes you fat. I'd wanted a real atomic blow job, but she immediately turned into Cranky Bear & wanted to call the crisis line. The therapist said we should call Karen, who calmed her down a little bit, but Teddy Bear is mad -- I'm afraid she's going back to her old self, the one I threw out of the house.
But I think the real problem was the child in McRonald's. Last week, some kid exasperated VADIS in front of her, & it disturbed her, especially because VADIS is a sadist; whiplash, girl-child, in the dark. Also, I think I never should've admitted the tattooed lady at the Con was sexy; now, Trish is having dreams about her & wants to get a couple tattoos. I told her she can with her tax return money next year, but I think she's doing it out of envy & not because she really wants to. Vicki is stuck in Denver with defective brakes, but maybe I can get us in to see Joe (Nobodaddy calls him by his last name).
I'm not giving up on my Bumblebee Girl, just cuz we're having a few problems, as I've seen her get better & know that the woman I love is still somewhere deep inside.
It began Wednesday evening, just around supper time. I'd planned on having tuna noodle (Bumblebee Tuna -- no, it's Albertson's) but she decided the pasta would make me fat(ter) & forbade me to fix it. This was because Dr. Vicki had told her that a lot of men gain weight when they first go to college, because they can't cook anything but pasta. Since she threw a fit, I had to go down in the basement (I need my head examined; I need my eyes excited) & take out some hamburger from the deep freeze, so we could have sloppy joes. But the meat was still frozen & the old microwave had busted, to be replaced by Trish's (from down in the basement), so I overcooked the meat trying to thaw it, & she complained it was "chewy" & wound up throwing about 1/2 her sandwich, like some species of spoiled child.
Then yesterday (you seemed so far away), I had an appointment with Dr. Nolan about my blood pressure -- Atacand wasn't covered on the Medicaid approved drug list, & the Diovan was making my blood pressure too low; dizzy-dizzy. He simply cut the dose in 1/2. But immediately prior to that, I'd been weighed, & found out that I'd lost at least 12 pounds, which surprised me following the MisCon hot dogs, geekolissa delicious & salty chips.
When I returned home, Trish had already left for work -- which was good; she'd been driving with Ms. Trisha & at least hadn't wrecked the car or been hurt. Car-girl had told me it was supposed to storm, so after supper, rather than risk frying my computer, I watched TV. Then she called about 8:10 & said she was getting a ride with Bryan. As soon as she was home, I told her I'd lost 12 pounds, because I was happy, but then added something about the pasta, which is like yeah, I really wish she'd quit nagging me about the diet, especially after Karen explained that bread or potatoes can be just as bad; it's the portion size that matters, not that it's "pasta" & "pasta" is the only thing that makes you fat. I'd wanted a real atomic blow job, but she immediately turned into Cranky Bear & wanted to call the crisis line. The therapist said we should call Karen, who calmed her down a little bit, but Teddy Bear is mad -- I'm afraid she's going back to her old self, the one I threw out of the house.
But I think the real problem was the child in McRonald's. Last week, some kid exasperated VADIS in front of her, & it disturbed her, especially because VADIS is a sadist; whiplash, girl-child, in the dark. Also, I think I never should've admitted the tattooed lady at the Con was sexy; now, Trish is having dreams about her & wants to get a couple tattoos. I told her she can with her tax return money next year, but I think she's doing it out of envy & not because she really wants to. Vicki is stuck in Denver with defective brakes, but maybe I can get us in to see Joe (Nobodaddy calls him by his last name).
I'm not giving up on my Bumblebee Girl, just cuz we're having a few problems, as I've seen her get better & know that the woman I love is still somewhere deep inside.
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