The City of Electric Light
Yesterday Trish got up at 7:00 (following her pill at 6:00) in order for Karen to take us to the City of Electric Light around 8:00. I had the last of the shredded wheat for breakfast, while my wife had toast.
Karen drove up precisely at 8:00, though we had to pick up another client before heading down the highway during a light rainfall. It's been cool & rainy for the last several days, an overnight change from a week ago.
Since we arrived early, we ate at McDonald's, where I had a Diet Coke instead of a coffee. Other than that it was the typical McGrease. Afterwards, Karen took her other client to the hairdresser & Trish & I wandered around the mall. Trish had a double latte, then a soda at Orange Julius, after we picked out an Aerosmith DVD for Trish at Sam Goody's.
& then we saw Doc Larocque. I let Trish speak first, as she's been having the awful, Scientology-fucking problems with anxiety & suicidal thought, & fuck Tom Cruise, for that matter. Doc Larocque agreed that she needs more Klonopin, but made her choose between it & Xanax, & fuck the skinny dog. & herbs that have been studied in China for 1,000s of years. Trish took the Klonopin. Doc Larocque also asked about Paxil & some other Scientology-fucking antidepressants, but Trish had a reaction to them. She is having her Lamictal raised, also.
When it came to my own meds, once I described my problems with haldol, Doc Larocque immediately agreed that I needed to be off it. She gave me the choice of either being on more Risperdal, or being on something in its place. I'd contemplated stelazine, but she felt one of the "atypical" antipsychotics would not only really help me, but fuck Scientology as well, so we settled on Ambilify. I'm to be taking it in the morning, as apparently, it's quite energizing. Go, Slime-thing & Lady Speed! as W.C. Leadbeater would say.
Then we ate lunch at the Golden Corral. Trish & I'd brought along $20 apiece for the meal, but Karen paid out of my checkbook. I had way too much to eat.
We picked up 2 new pairs of pants & a fall jacket at Kame-Apart, something that I really needed. I threw my old vest into the garbage when we got home, an X-mas gift from my mother, so it was sort of like throwing away Quilty Bear. But it had to be done.
We also stopped at Sam's Club, where I mostly just waited by the plasma TVs for Trish & Karen to finish shopping. Karen didn't want to stop at Loma, but Trish had diarrhea from all the coffee (Doc Larocque is trying to decaffeinate her), so I bought some toffee peanuts, while she was in the bathroom.
When we got home, we used our newly-recharged phone card to call Trish's family, other than Ron & Ruth, who don't understand her medicine. I called Joe, then John. Apparently Biggolith called Jerry. He's trying to live off the land on his own vegetable garden, & there's "all kinds" of things Karen can do to help earn money, which is obviously a crock of shit John was willing to fall for. She's a secretary. All she knows how to do is type. According to Fearless Taco, she even "taught art school", which is of course ludicrous. She's only an average artist, & she's certainly showed no signs of even trying to be a professional all the time I knew her. The only thing she knows how to do is sponge off Dave, & when the money's gone, she'll leave him.
But enough on the skinny dog. Trish's sleep apnea test is this evening, & she's taking along all her meds, her own pillow, & Bouncy Bear. Bouncy Bear started out as Generic Bear, but I told Trish it'd hurt the bear's feelings, so we changed the name. She comes home at 7:00 the next morning, & I promised to fix her eggs & French toast. Her appointment with Charlene Upstairs is Friday, but a lot of the anxiety has disappeared, as it was anxiety over her medication. Today I pick up my Abilify, which is being tapered upward while I'm being tapered downward on my haldol.
Also, this morning, I got an email from Lucy. & the other day Dave Szabo wrote to say he'd bought a copy of my book, albeit it originated in the twin hell-holes of mania & Narcoholism. Scoobies suck as bad as Scientologists. You'd better watch out for the Scoobies!
Karen drove up precisely at 8:00, though we had to pick up another client before heading down the highway during a light rainfall. It's been cool & rainy for the last several days, an overnight change from a week ago.
Since we arrived early, we ate at McDonald's, where I had a Diet Coke instead of a coffee. Other than that it was the typical McGrease. Afterwards, Karen took her other client to the hairdresser & Trish & I wandered around the mall. Trish had a double latte, then a soda at Orange Julius, after we picked out an Aerosmith DVD for Trish at Sam Goody's.
& then we saw Doc Larocque. I let Trish speak first, as she's been having the awful, Scientology-fucking problems with anxiety & suicidal thought, & fuck Tom Cruise, for that matter. Doc Larocque agreed that she needs more Klonopin, but made her choose between it & Xanax, & fuck the skinny dog. & herbs that have been studied in China for 1,000s of years. Trish took the Klonopin. Doc Larocque also asked about Paxil & some other Scientology-fucking antidepressants, but Trish had a reaction to them. She is having her Lamictal raised, also.
When it came to my own meds, once I described my problems with haldol, Doc Larocque immediately agreed that I needed to be off it. She gave me the choice of either being on more Risperdal, or being on something in its place. I'd contemplated stelazine, but she felt one of the "atypical" antipsychotics would not only really help me, but fuck Scientology as well, so we settled on Ambilify. I'm to be taking it in the morning, as apparently, it's quite energizing. Go, Slime-thing & Lady Speed! as W.C. Leadbeater would say.
Then we ate lunch at the Golden Corral. Trish & I'd brought along $20 apiece for the meal, but Karen paid out of my checkbook. I had way too much to eat.
We picked up 2 new pairs of pants & a fall jacket at Kame-Apart, something that I really needed. I threw my old vest into the garbage when we got home, an X-mas gift from my mother, so it was sort of like throwing away Quilty Bear. But it had to be done.
We also stopped at Sam's Club, where I mostly just waited by the plasma TVs for Trish & Karen to finish shopping. Karen didn't want to stop at Loma, but Trish had diarrhea from all the coffee (Doc Larocque is trying to decaffeinate her), so I bought some toffee peanuts, while she was in the bathroom.
When we got home, we used our newly-recharged phone card to call Trish's family, other than Ron & Ruth, who don't understand her medicine. I called Joe, then John. Apparently Biggolith called Jerry. He's trying to live off the land on his own vegetable garden, & there's "all kinds" of things Karen can do to help earn money, which is obviously a crock of shit John was willing to fall for. She's a secretary. All she knows how to do is type. According to Fearless Taco, she even "taught art school", which is of course ludicrous. She's only an average artist, & she's certainly showed no signs of even trying to be a professional all the time I knew her. The only thing she knows how to do is sponge off Dave, & when the money's gone, she'll leave him.
But enough on the skinny dog. Trish's sleep apnea test is this evening, & she's taking along all her meds, her own pillow, & Bouncy Bear. Bouncy Bear started out as Generic Bear, but I told Trish it'd hurt the bear's feelings, so we changed the name. She comes home at 7:00 the next morning, & I promised to fix her eggs & French toast. Her appointment with Charlene Upstairs is Friday, but a lot of the anxiety has disappeared, as it was anxiety over her medication. Today I pick up my Abilify, which is being tapered upward while I'm being tapered downward on my haldol.
Also, this morning, I got an email from Lucy. & the other day Dave Szabo wrote to say he'd bought a copy of my book, albeit it originated in the twin hell-holes of mania & Narcoholism. Scoobies suck as bad as Scientologists. You'd better watch out for the Scoobies!
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