THAR SHE BLOOOOOWS!!!

I went to see my doctor today to get back on Pristiq and to get something to help me sleep. Turns out, not only do I have the SADs,  but I'm also fatter. Like, almost 10 pounds fatter. What the fuck doesn't even begin to cut it. I've been working out (not a serious regimen, but at least it's something) and limiting my calorie intake. I've been juicing fruits and vegetables and living on little more than that for days at a stretch.This is pure, straight, unadulterated horse shit. Fuck you, body. Fuck you.

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

I sing the "Just Keep Swimming" song from Finding Nemo in my head when I'm stressed, depressed or anxious. It's been on a continuous loop lately.

I haven't been able to focus. I'm only on campus 2 days a week, but the other 3 days I can't seem to get anything done. I just kind of sit and stare and try to remember everything I have to do. Then I get overwhelmed, the anxiety kicks in, I start hating myself for not having my shit together,  the next thing I know, it's time for the kids to get home from school and I've wasted another day wrestling with myself. It. fucking. sucks.

I know people look at me and think I'm just lazy. I realize I'm being judged. I judge myself more harshly than anyone else ever could. I wish I had some little internal component that I could take out and show people. "Look, it's just a little bruised and fragile right now. Please be patient while it undergoes some maintenance". Or maybe I should just wear a t-shirt that says "TEMPORARILY OUT OF ORDER".

Fortunately, I've learned to pay attention when I start sliding downhill, so first thing this morning I called and made an appointment to get back on Pristiq. I couldn't get an appointment until week after next, so until then I'll just keep swimming.

The rain in Spain leave me in agonizing pain...

I have fibromyalgia. Some of you know this, some of you don't. If you do and you're tired of me bitching about it, you should probably stop reading now. If you don't and you don't mind the bitching, read on.

It's barely sprinkling today, but it's just enough to make me want to cut my arms and legs off and let my kids pull me around in a little red wagon for the rest of my life. Any change in weather causes pain. Especially cold, but that's another bitch session all together.

Today it's my knees and elbows that are making me want to Boxing Helena myself. I can only imagine it's what having gravel in your joints would feel like. It's not always the same, though. And it doesn't even necessarily have to have weather-related. It's very confusing  and a literal pain in the ass for me.

Try remembering the worst flu you've ever had - the horrible muscle aches, the fatigue, the joint pain,  the frantically bargaining with the deity of your choice to just end it now. It's kinda like that. But it comes and goes without warning 90% of the time. I reserved the other 10% for when I know the weather is going to change.

At one point, several years ago, I was so medicated I didn't know my ass from a hole in the ground. My hair was falling out, I twitched (hubby likened it to having a vibrating bed that you didn't have to put a quarter in), I had horrible insomnia and could barely function. The meds slightly dulled the pain, but the side effects weren't worth it. Now, I just take some Aleve or Motrin, grit my teeth and deal as best I can.

Apparently, I owe Wednesday an apology. And some other crap, too.

I realized after I hit "publish" that my freak-out happened on Tuesday, not Wednesday. So, I'm sorry Wednesday. You're slightly less of a filthy whore than your sister Tuesday.

• I went to the gym on WEDNESDAY and didn't seriously hurt myself. I only hit myself in the head with a bar once and I didn't fall of the treadmill. I still look like a newborn giraffe while I'm on it/trying to get off, but I'm ok with that as long as no one else is looking. 

• "Light auburn" lowlights on light blonde hair = pink. A funky purplish/pinkish magenta color. But I'm going to own it and pretend I'm just trying to be trendy. 

• I still can't figure out why my left armpit smells different than the right. It's probably nothing, but I'm pretty sure it's cancer.

I lost my purse. And my mind.

Wednesday was a horrible day for me. So bad, in fact, that I quit that bitch and went to bed at 7:30. It all started when I lost my purse. 

I had to go buy my nephew a birthday present, then drive to class. I've showered, I'm dressed, makeup on, hair did, let's go! I just need to grab my purse and I'm out. But it's not where I left it. Or where I think I left it. Now, I'm a little (lot) anal retentive about my stuff. I have no more than two to three places where I put things like my keys, phone, PURSE, etc. That way I can find things when I need them. If they are not where they should be, it's because someone has moved them and will soon be on the receiving end of a Hulk-out. 

This isn't some dainty little handbag we're talking about. It's a tote bag with a zipper. And it weighs as much as a newborn. It's kinda hard to miss. 

I look in my usual places. Nada. I had it earlier that morning because I got my keys out of it. Didn't I? Or was that yesterday? I move room to room like a crime scene investigator. Now I'm getting antsy. I call Dan. He's busy at work, but texts me. I ask if he'd seen it before he left the house knowing full well that he can't keep track of his own shit let alone mine. He assures me he hasn't seen it and why am I asking if I know I had it after he left for work? I do the logical thing and start crying. 

By now 30 minutes have passed and I'm balls-deep in an anxiety attack. If you've never had an anxiety attack, I sincerely hope you never do. If you have, you know how horrible they are and are probably considering baking me a batch of cookies (I like peanut butter) to help me feel better. You also know that once it subsides, you are completely exhausted and your day is shot. 

I go look in the car (3 times), in the laundry hampers, under furniture, in furniture, in the trash can (inside and outside ones), the bathtub (twice), the freezer (stranger shit has happened), refrigerator (see previous statement) and even the front yard. It's GONE. I'm a shaking, sobbing, mascara-smeared pile of defeat. I'm about to say screw the birthday party, email my instructors, and go hide under the covers for the rest of the day. But not without one last look. 

I go back to the first of the two or three places it should be - the top of the dryer. I've already looked here several times, so I'm not holding my breath. It's not on top of the freshly folded laundry. It's not under it either. Then something shiny and black catches my eye. Part of my purse is sticking out from the MIDDLE of the stack of freshly folded laundry. Fuck you, Wednesday.

Grocery lists are for SQUARES!

I've been on a mission to make some Nutella/chocolate cupcakes that I found a recipe for. Last week, I zipped to Kroger, armed with a print-out of the recipe so I could buy all of the ingredients. I ducked and dodged up and down each aisle, pausing only to estimate how many of each thing to buy. I was a woman possessed. Who wouldn't be? Made-from-scratch Nutella/chocolate cupcakes with homemade vanilla cream cheese frosting? That's what God did on the 8th day. He made these cupcakes.

Then next morning, I get up early, get the kids ready and off to school and get ready to start baking. Wait a minute. Where are my cupcake papers?! SHIT!!! I forgot to buy some. I slink off into a pit of despair and self-loathing.

Fast forward to today. It's a new week and I am DETERMINED to bake those goddamn cupcakes. Off to Kroger I go. Get cupcake papers. Pick up something for dinner.

4 steaks, a pork loin roast, 2 12-packs of Ski, some rice pilaf and a box of Nerds later, I still have no cupcake papers. Is 2:30 too early to start drinking?

Sugar-free Redbull is the nectar of the gods...until it's not.

I've been on a roll today. Woke up at about 5:45, did a little cleaning, got the kiddos ready, went to the bank and dropped them off at school LIKE A BOSS! I was all motivated to go to the gym after I did some homework, but I'm balls-deep in a Redbull crash. I think I'll stay on the couch and try to Jedi mind trick the fat off my thighs. After I eat this bucket of cake frosting. And take a nap.