There is no Funny, only Zoul.
2003-04-18
11:20 a.m.

I keep starting entries and then abandoning them.

It's not so much that I'm busy as it is that I'm fried and therefore have a short attention span. Due to the fact that I'm fried.

So, my husband was home for 48 hours, which was nice. Sure, I worked for about 16 of them, commuted for 4, and slept for 12, but at least I saw him! Plus, he fixed some of the things that were overwhelming me, which was great. It's not that I'm incompetent with home repair. I'm actually pretty psyched to pick up a drill and hammer stuff back together, but I was just so drained at the end of each day that he was gone (due to work insanity) that I couldn't even deal with it. Plus, he took a day off and was therefore able to get to the hardware store and pick up the bits and pieces we needed to put stuff back in working order. So now the drier vents properly, the puddle in the basement has been sucked up, and the lock on the basement door isn't threatening to fall apart. And I have a key to the front door. Hooray!

But now he's gone again and I don't know when he's coming back. And that blows. But a short reprieve from my house management duties was really, really scha-weet.

Why am I complaining?

Recent book choices have caused me to wonder what the crap I am complaining about. I finished Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America by Barbara Ehrenreich a few weeks ago and now I'm almost done with Random Family: Love, Drugs, Trouble, and Coming of Age in the Bronxby Adrian LeBlanc. And I have to say: Damn. I mean, seriously, my life is SO EASY. Re: my drier hose? Who gives a crap? Easiest "problems" ever. Note to self: Stop Whining.

And, commence whining.

Ha. Aaaannnnnnd, whine. Despite the fact that I know that my life is totally charmed, I still can't shut up about it. Boohoo, Lucy is going to be given up, boohoo my husband is gone for a while. Also, I'm tired. Always.

I tried to sign up for a clinical trial today. I have a lovely condition which is chronic and involves a lot of medication, but so long as I take the medication, I'm generally okay. But, I decided to call anyway because maybe they're testing something that could make me entirely better. As it is, I'm sick but I've gotten so used to being sick that I feel fine. My normal is someone else's ill, if that makes sense. But I look healthy and operate like a healthy person. I'm also young and I've only had this for about 2 and a half years, so check back with me when I've had it for 30. Something like 33% of people who have this for 30 years get colon cancer and even more have parts of their colons removed and get colostomy bags. So, I'm trying to avoid this. For some reason.

Anyway, since I take so much medication, I'm a little bit scared of taxing my body by having kids, or by the fact that I may not be the safest host for a fetus to happily grow in. So I was looking into clinical trials to see if maybe I can cure myself through some fancy new treatment. The questions they asked scared the crap out of me. Do I have neurological deficits? Er, I don't think I do. Will I? Am I eventually going to just shut down from this? Gah.

Okay then.

Er, funny?

I have no funny. I have only angst.

Lucy update:

I spoke to the lady at the shelter last night. The woman I had been dealing with (who is sane) is on vacation, and the woman who is handling things in her absence is INSANE. Ha? She's trying to talk me into keeping Lucy and LOCKING MOLLY IN THE BASEMENT. FOREVER. I laughed, and she was like, "I resent that you're laughing. I have a cat who lives in the basement." Okay? Then she let slide that she has 24 cats so I've decided that she's a total nutbar. Anyway, I don't know if they can take Lucy this weekend, and I can't decide if that's good or bad. More Lucy time = good, but also sad.

I go work now. By work I mean lunch.