FB Status Updates I never posted, but really wanted to.

The children's favorite bathtub toy is the mildew that gets flushed out of the inside of their other bathtub toys. Best. Mom. Ever.

I think religion says "This is the right thing to do.  That is the wrong thing to do.  You must do whatever it takes to do the right things and not do the wrong things.  Hurt yourself, the people you love, don't be true to yourself if it means that the right things get done".  I don't have religion, so I think you should not hurt yourself or anybody else, and you should be true to yourself, and if something meets those requirements, that's how you know it's the right thing.

My dog is scared of My farts.

You're all being pwned by like-farmers.  STOP IT!  BAD FACEBOOKER!  BADBADBAD!!!!1!

The best part about sleeping in your clothes is that you can go to work in your pajamas.

Really, the only people who are capable of cutting you to the bone are the ones that you love.  

Sometimes FB make me feel lonelier than ever, because when no one responds to my posts I know it's because FB hasn't shown them to anyone, because no one has interest in me.  It's the FB catch 22.

Sometimes FB makes me feel the love more than ever, because I post a comment and someone I didn't even know hits the like button.  In a set of more than six billion people, there exists at least one other person who agrees with me.

Someone is wrong on the internet again.  Make them stop.

I actually DO find your pictures of lunch interesting.

The Bug: "Let's get a Christmas tree."
Me: "We can't afford one.  We'll have to make something like one."
The Bug: "PLEEEEEESE"
Me: "It's not like it's an option and I'm holding out on you.  Do you want breakfasts, or do you want a Christmas tree?"
The Bug: " A Christmas tree."

(Which I can't post because people will think I'm whiny, but honestly I thought it was funny...)

What a weekend I had......

Ever have one of those days when you miss a dose of Pristique and you're possibly premenstrual anyways, and you lose how handfuls of your sanity but somehow the loss escapes your perception because it's all apeshit up in there anyways, and really, if you've got a room full to bursting with monkeys, and then 30 of them run off, you notice the volumes been reduced, but you really couldn't be bothered with an exact number.  There were more, there are now less, but you're still dodging poo so you best get on with it, not counting monkeys.  Which is all to say I knew I was having A BAD DAY, but it wasn't really until today that I look back on this weekend and say "Who does that?".  I will tell you.  A crazy lady does that.  I thank Science for my meds, and am glad they make such an apparent difference, but am also now Dubious of my ability to assess my perception.  I feel a need to go get my mental "temperature" taken.  

Which is not to say I'm seeing pink elephants or hearing them talk.  Nor was I then.  It's just that it seemed very real to me that my husband had kicked me out.  And I spent sevenish hours setting in a parking lot thinking about what that meant, and seriously being confused about what had just happened.  I would think that he was mad but hadn't really kicked me out- he wouldn't do that because he's my husband and he loves me (The actual truth).  Then I would think I was right to leave, and good luck to him trying to do what I do on top of what he does. That'll learn him. Then I would think I was right to leave, but it was because I am so awful.  All the awful things (I thought) he had said were true.   I married a smart, sweet man.  If he thinks I's an ass, I probably is. I must be a huge flaming anus, and I should never go back.  For my family's sake.  Rinse and repeat.  A lot.  

Today, it's all so clear.  And the difference between the reality and my perception is all so vast.  And the power of this drug so scary- I take the smallest dose, and I missed one dose for sure- possibly two, but no more.  I had asked my doctor about trying to get off of it, but she said I should just go down to every other day, etc.  I can not imagine what my life would look like after a month of cycling through sanity windows.  

ASIDE-

There are no titrated dosing strengths for weaning off with.  There is no liquid version.  You can't chop one up because it's made like an onion, with enteric coatings preventing the good stuff from hitting you all at once.  You can't dissolve one to make a  liquid dose for that reason- it would all dump in and get used up in one spurt- you'd have to take sips of it day and night.  I'd need some sort of life style that would allow me to spend every other day ALONE, or in a drug induced stupor, or something.  I would go so far as to say it makes one wish one hadn't taken it, only damn, it works better than anything else I've tried.  

ALL DONE-

The ratio of letters typed to mistakes made is becoming verrrr leedle, so Imma say good night. 

Night,

ephelba

PS

The girls have been hunting weasles in our yard.  They made a weasle trap with a nest and a fake wooden egg.  I can't tell if they seriously believe there will be weasles, or could be weasles, or are already weasles lurking in our yard just out of view.  I will not let them use a real egg.