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2005-11-03 @ 11:69 p.m.
testing for safety...its imperative

After about three weeks of really severe depression, I am back to normal (heh), wait, let me put that in quotes “Normal” with a change in my meds. My doctor basically just doubled my prescription of something I’ve been taking for about 7 years now and suddenly I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General, once again. And what’s interesting, is that this medication is once again doing what it did when I first starting taking it originally. It has suddenly made me lose all interest in eating. Well, let me be a little more specific. Binge eating. As in eating when I’m angry. Eating when I’m upset. Eating when I’m sad. Eating when there’s repeats on TV. Eating when the wind blows. Eating when George W. Bush lies. Geeze, no wonder I’m so damn fat.

But this medication, for some reason, has this magical quality. It just makes me no longer obsess about where my next morsel of chocolate or donut is coming from. Yahoo! Of course, I am still neurotic and paranoid. But then I wouldn't be able to sing, "I gotta be meeeee!".

Today was another nice Fall Day though. I had called about my glasses frame. I’ve been without my glasses for over two weeks, which has been interesting. Like last night, for instance, I went to my art class and while I was aware that there was this large blurry human blob up on our stage and that there was this large blurry sketch pad in front of me...trying to draw anything discernable as human proved difficult. So I just had to enjoy the royal presence of Charlemayne the Obnoxious French Guy. I didn’t even get there early, since I no longer co-host. But I did dress fetchingly this week, with my low cut cleavage bearing black sweater and tight jeans, not that it was noted in anyone in any way. Yay me! :-) :-)

Our little high school intern had on some bell bottom jeans that looked like they had been somehow magically, mysteriously transported back from the Haight Ashbury 1968. They had hand drawn cartoons all over them. During the break she asked Charlemagne to do a cartoon on them as well. Of course he was thrilled since he has an ego the size of the entire universe.

So he had her sit on a stool with her leg resting on his thigh (me raising my eyebrow), and he preceded to draw a cartoon on the knee of her jean. It was a baby with a crown hovering over its head. I noticed the diaper on the baby looked a little be honest like it had a little baby weenie kind of poking off to the side. I know this was not the intention, because all of Charlemagne’s work is very sweet and gentle. But I had to mention this...”Is that a little “thing” poking out?” Oh dear, was he ever upset! He said it was the diaper. And I said “Oh” and then a little while later when the Sci Fi Guy looked at it he said, “Hey Charlemagne, is that a penis sticking out there?” Poor Charlemagne. He was distraught, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t do anything to change it. It was done in felt tip pens.

He then had the intern turn around and he then did another cartoon figure on the inside bend of her leg. And that one I totally fell in love with. It was so cute. It was a one eyed alien in a space ship. Naturally I wished he would do one on my pant leg, but I’m not a goth teenager. And how would it look for a 47 year old woman to go to work with a one eyed alien drawn on the knee of her jeans.

Probably kinda cool, huh? But alas, even though its Charlemagne, I was too shy to ask him to use my body as his canvas.

So as I was driving to get my glasses today I was thinking about that woman who had offered me 95 cents for my painting last Friday and how patently ridiculous that had been. Here is a close up of it, at least what fits on my scanner:

And as you might have guessed I do like to obsess about stuff, so as I was thinking, ok, was I being delusional putting such a high price on my painting, since I’m only an amateur? Was I? I know the Lesbian Chick, whose vast knowledge of art obviously overshadows mine was suggesting about $20, but I was thinking about all the things that went into it and here is what I came up with:

  • Art class where I painted it: $69.
  • Canvas: $6.
  • Frame: $22.
  • Matting: $8.
  • Paints: $14.
  • Brushes: $10.
  • Gas to get to class: $5.

    All this comes up to around $130. Now this is before we even add in MY time, and lets not forget my immense talent and skill. And let say I worked at McDonald’s I might make $8/hr. and I worked on the painting 2 hours. And lets just say I made as much painting as I would flipping burgers, so we would add another $16. So altogether now, my painting cost $146 to produce. So hey, asking $95 for the frickin’ painting was an absolute bargain, I say! An absolute bargain!!

    Of course, when my poor widdle brain was trying to do all the math, which I’m not very good at, I was nearly involved in a car accident. I was going up the back way to the eyeglass place, and a beer truck was coming towards me and just as he passed me, I saw a huge tractor trailer coming out of a driveway and he smashed right into him, sheering off the whole back of the truck. Of course I quickly looked in my rear view mirror, and I could see beers hurtling skyward and pieces of metal tail light and fenders hitting the pavement. Its funny whenever you see a car accident in person, its never as dramatic as when you see them in movies. Its all sort of slow and clunky and non-dramatic. I was just glad my car wasn’t hit by anything, because I have a hole in my gas tank, and I’m just like a Molotov cocktail waiting to happen and then BOOM. Fried witty-cakes.

    I did go to my Empowerment planning committee meeting today. Ha! They had to tell me where it was. It really was no biggie. Not sure why it was such a big secret. I seem to get along with the two women I share the job with. Our topic this week is going to be stress reduction. I had just done a group Wednesday and our topic guessed it, stress reduction. I guess that’s a popular topic this week. So I was able to produce some ready made material which seemed to please my co-workers. We were also talking about various methods of stress reduction. We had the usual stuff, meds, deep breathing and then the one girl came up with sex.

    And than I was thinking, wouldn’t it be cool if your psychiatrist could write you a prescription for sex? "Oh witty’s looking a little peaked, I better write you a prescription for a little hide the salami."

    And can you imagine going to your pharmacy to pick up your prescription? Can you imagine how long the lines would be? Or if your husband offered to go get your prescription for you and you hadn’t told him about your new “drug” and so you’re all, “Oh no honey, that’s ok. I’ll go get it. I think Monday Night Football’s on isn’t it?” And I wonder how would you carry it/them out of the store? And how would you know if it (he/she) was going to interact with your other meds? And how many men would also get a viagra chaser? And you just know certain people would probably get addicted to it. I have that addictive nature to my personality. I’d probably be down begging “A” to talk to the psychiatrist for just ONE MORE REFILL OF JOHNNY DEPP-0-KOTE.

    Well, okay, maybe its not such a great idea, but think of all the fun the people at the FDA would have making sure it was safe for public consumption.

    It would probably take about 25-30 years of testing. At least...

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