naked Taco Loco
Yesterday (as these posts so typically begin), I woke up at 4:00-something & felt burned out all day. I got up & used the computer for awhile, then shut it off when it came time for Trish's breakfast of pancakes.
Car-girl gave Trish a ride to work yesterday dependent on a 10:00 AM call, to remind her. After she left, I felt so burned out from undersleeping that I decided I wouldn't be able to work on Mindstorm, so I watched Airplane until noon, then went out to my lunch, hardly naked in the wet, cold weather. I bought a #3 at El Taco Loco. A couple mugwumps sat a few tables down, Interzone agents, the lot of them.
When I came home I put in Pulse, the Pink Floyd video that David gave us, in his last moment of niceness. (Karen, of course, couldn't come say goodbye, as we use addictive experimental antidepressants & not herbs that have been studied in China for 6,000 years & I hope David divorces her & gets his life back.)
Trish called from work around 3:00, complaining that Car-girl didn't answer her phone. I suggested calling Fred. Trish called back a few minutes later to say that she did have a ride home. I went out on the porch & waited, while the movie & light show continued to pulse. When she arrived Trish complained that Fred was mad at her for calling at the last minute. We started to eat our veggies that Trish had brought home from the salad bar. I eventually decided to call Fred, to explain the true realities of Dopamax, but he said that he wasn't angry, in the least. Then I called Car-girl, & she was home, & asked if Trish needed to be picked up. Apparently, her call waiting had screwed up & she'd missed Trish's call. Next time, Trish will simply wait & drink a Mr. Fruity while she's waiting for her ride.
Trish took her shower at the usual time, so while she was doing it, I played around with the remote, & came up with the new old Star Trek, TOS with the special effects enhanced. However, we ate during it. Trish decided that she wanted Chef Boy-r-dee canned food & canned carrots for supper. Some of her anxiety must be returning, as it took her over 1/2 an hour to eat this little bit of stuff.
We found a movie on TV -- Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy -- & Trish watched the beginning, then did some dishes & made the bed. Although this particular spate of bad weather will dissipate, we still need to replace Quilty Bear with an electric blanket, so we have at least have a month or so before that.
We went to bed around 8:45 last night, & I took 3 Scientology-fucking temezapam. I slept pretty soundly, up to the point where my bladder woke me up. Although I've been trying to avoid fluids in the evening, this remains a problem.
Fred promised to come over around 10:00, in order to help unscrew the digital cable box & wire the cable into our VCR. We'd do it ourselves, but lack tools, & even though we have a white bat-mobile, getting Trish to drive to the cable company would be a different matter. So we need help. Once we have the box swapped out we'll be giving Trish a ride to work, & she can walk home. The high today is supposed to be 63.
I think that part of Trish's anxiety right now -- the moths are long gone -- is dealing with an impending winter, which will mean relying on rides. Although she has her license, she doesn't know how to drive on ice & snow yet, & is a slow learner, so this is all very difficult for her. Filling out the application at Crazy Tacos seems to have -- although she still has the anxiety -- caused her to switch over to a manic state. I'll be glad when we finally see Doc Larocque, & can get Trish's & my medicine straightened out.
I want off haldol, but am working on Mindstorm, so will have no idea how I'm doing on it, as it's impossible to Critter. I tried running it thru the group once, & had to ask ye olde Critter Cap'n to yank it from the queue after some bitch declared, "This doesn't look like you wrote it while manic. This looks like you wrote it on drugs". She continued to go on as to, "what to do with the chapters" & said to chop them up into short-shorts & print them in magazines that only pay in copies, as "Andrew Burt is right, no science fiction or mainstream fantasy publisher will accept this as-is", when the point of the aburt quote was, "Don't send this to SF publishers. Send it to a dozen mainstream publishers at once & see what happens". With no Crittering applicable, I may ruin the story & even lose the ability to write stuff for Analog. On top of which, I'm finding out the results of my biopsy Tuesday, & don't want to have to deal with cancer, if that's what it is.
Car-girl gave Trish a ride to work yesterday dependent on a 10:00 AM call, to remind her. After she left, I felt so burned out from undersleeping that I decided I wouldn't be able to work on Mindstorm, so I watched Airplane until noon, then went out to my lunch, hardly naked in the wet, cold weather. I bought a #3 at El Taco Loco. A couple mugwumps sat a few tables down, Interzone agents, the lot of them.
When I came home I put in Pulse, the Pink Floyd video that David gave us, in his last moment of niceness. (Karen, of course, couldn't come say goodbye, as we use addictive experimental antidepressants & not herbs that have been studied in China for 6,000 years & I hope David divorces her & gets his life back.)
Trish called from work around 3:00, complaining that Car-girl didn't answer her phone. I suggested calling Fred. Trish called back a few minutes later to say that she did have a ride home. I went out on the porch & waited, while the movie & light show continued to pulse. When she arrived Trish complained that Fred was mad at her for calling at the last minute. We started to eat our veggies that Trish had brought home from the salad bar. I eventually decided to call Fred, to explain the true realities of Dopamax, but he said that he wasn't angry, in the least. Then I called Car-girl, & she was home, & asked if Trish needed to be picked up. Apparently, her call waiting had screwed up & she'd missed Trish's call. Next time, Trish will simply wait & drink a Mr. Fruity while she's waiting for her ride.
Trish took her shower at the usual time, so while she was doing it, I played around with the remote, & came up with the new old Star Trek, TOS with the special effects enhanced. However, we ate during it. Trish decided that she wanted Chef Boy-r-dee canned food & canned carrots for supper. Some of her anxiety must be returning, as it took her over 1/2 an hour to eat this little bit of stuff.
We found a movie on TV -- Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy -- & Trish watched the beginning, then did some dishes & made the bed. Although this particular spate of bad weather will dissipate, we still need to replace Quilty Bear with an electric blanket, so we have at least have a month or so before that.
We went to bed around 8:45 last night, & I took 3 Scientology-fucking temezapam. I slept pretty soundly, up to the point where my bladder woke me up. Although I've been trying to avoid fluids in the evening, this remains a problem.
Fred promised to come over around 10:00, in order to help unscrew the digital cable box & wire the cable into our VCR. We'd do it ourselves, but lack tools, & even though we have a white bat-mobile, getting Trish to drive to the cable company would be a different matter. So we need help. Once we have the box swapped out we'll be giving Trish a ride to work, & she can walk home. The high today is supposed to be 63.
I think that part of Trish's anxiety right now -- the moths are long gone -- is dealing with an impending winter, which will mean relying on rides. Although she has her license, she doesn't know how to drive on ice & snow yet, & is a slow learner, so this is all very difficult for her. Filling out the application at Crazy Tacos seems to have -- although she still has the anxiety -- caused her to switch over to a manic state. I'll be glad when we finally see Doc Larocque, & can get Trish's & my medicine straightened out.
I want off haldol, but am working on Mindstorm, so will have no idea how I'm doing on it, as it's impossible to Critter. I tried running it thru the group once, & had to ask ye olde Critter Cap'n to yank it from the queue after some bitch declared, "This doesn't look like you wrote it while manic. This looks like you wrote it on drugs". She continued to go on as to, "what to do with the chapters" & said to chop them up into short-shorts & print them in magazines that only pay in copies, as "Andrew Burt is right, no science fiction or mainstream fantasy publisher will accept this as-is", when the point of the aburt quote was, "Don't send this to SF publishers. Send it to a dozen mainstream publishers at once & see what happens". With no Crittering applicable, I may ruin the story & even lose the ability to write stuff for Analog. On top of which, I'm finding out the results of my biopsy Tuesday, & don't want to have to deal with cancer, if that's what it is.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home