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2006-08-11 @ 1:32 p.m. |
"Blessed are thou...thy lovely Pain Pills, for thou shall maketh me walk forth without limping, and maketh me affecteth strange Cheech and Chong-like behavior and maketh me speak like a Kenneth Braunaugh Shakespearean film with thine powerful kicketh. Let us pray...." Cue: Some Holy music like, I don't know, "Hey Jude". Yup, I've been on 2400 mg. of a certain pain pill since Wednesday and wheeeeeee! That's not to say its been a happy, carefree wheeeeeee! Its been more of an Emotions Laid Bare- Everything Makes Me Cry -I Want to Smash Everything - Charlemagne, Will You Come in the Unisex Bathroom with Me and Suck my Toes kind of wheeee. I think it might be interacting with my bipolar meds, but at least its helping the exquisite pain that is My Left Foot. In the meantime, havoc has been wreaked. I've been fairly clumsy, like when I was at the yuppie grocery store where I hope to work someday soon. I was very matter of factly (whispering: "But you haven't, witty") And then last night I was out in the kitchen after 1 a.m. feeding Guardcat. I had just turned away for a moment when she jumped off the counter and flipped my art supply box off the counter. It popped open and every single pastel I own smashed and broke not only all over the floor but also in Guardcat's food and water dishes. So I'm standing there watching as the pastels and the water from the cat dish start to coagulate and swirl together making a huge cat pastel mural on the floor. Except I don't WANT a huge cat pastel mural on my floor. Pastels are messy. And I could just see Guardcat, once she came out of her hiding for her evil deed, tromping around in the dusty residue and then running wildly all over my apartment, making a kitty paw print fresco. So I tried to clean it up. Was it easy? No. Because the more I rubbed it with paper towels, the more colorful it got. Now usually I like doing art, no matter what the medium, but here I was down on the floor in my white linen nightgown, smearing tiny chips of pastels and cat food and dust bunnies into a huge globby mess. And I hadn't even taken a pain pill recently so I couldn't just kneel there like Cheech and go, "Grooovy, dude!" The small party we had for our little Goth intern turned out nice because of Charlemagne. He did a good job, except for maybe the part where he said we were glad to be sending her away to college because she was incompetent and stole hubcaps off cars. But I guess he thought having a Dean Martin Roast was the way to go, even though he was the only person who said anything like that. But he also showered her with a bunch of little presents which made her giggle which was nice. I also gave her a pulp fiction novel from the early 1960s with some really cool cover art. I can't remember the exact title of the book but it was something like "The Ring-a-Ding-Ding UFO Incident" about a female detective agent who looks like Jane Fonda's Barbarella. She loved it. I think she hugged me like four times. For her recent 18th birthday she said she rented some porn, got a tattoo and smoked a cigar. Although looking at her, I just can't imagine any of it. She's just too adorable. I'm really going to miss her. She's a very unique and sweet girl. Charlemagne was pretty naughty Wednesday night. His meds must have been wearing off. My goodness. Some of the things he said to me. He even grabbed my arm and rubbed his head (no not that one!) with it. And I was like WTF? I have no idea what that meant. Is that like some Neanderthal mating ritual? Well, I have to go. My cousin is getting married tomorrow and I have to get a card. My mom is re-gifting something for me since I don't have a lot of money because I still don't have my food stamps. After getting all the paperwork requested by the stupid food stamp office, I talked to my worker Wednesday and suddenly she added a new thing to the list...I need alll the receipts from all my med co-payments and all the receipts from "A"s payments from the last six months. I don't get receipts from him. He no longer bills me. I just pay him mostly in cash. Unfortunately he's canceled next week's appointment, so I won't be able to get the receipt until almost the end of the month...thus no food stamps. Damn that food stamp lady! Why didn't she just write that on her original request for information! Now I have to go without because of her total incompetence. I'm also disappointed because my art class was going to have an outdoor nude drawing session this weekend and it was canceled. I had actually turned down the wedding invitation originally because I wanted to go to the drawing session (I'm not particularly close with this cousin. He doesn't ever acknowledge me at family gatherings, so pffft!), but now it is canceled and fortunately my uncle was happy to have me come anyways. And I DO like my uncle...and free food!!!!!! So I'm quite literally the penultimate starving artist this month. Why doesn't that notion seem as romantic as it used to?
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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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