This weekend is not working well for me.
i should have paid my rent on the third but i couldn't touch my money until the fifth and i was feeling so ill i didn't leave the house until four P.M. when i drove to my parents' to call my darling Naomi and apologize that i was feeling so crappy i couldn't make it to the party i was looking forward to going to.
i felt even worse after the call. i took more medicine and this one made me wonky and stupid. i truly fear antihistamines. i know of two i can take and the rest are a toss up. Some make me high and happy, others make me paranoid and nervous, a few even make me hallucinate. It was not such a big deal before i had a six-year-old little girl to transport in the case of a meal or emergency, or, worse yet, if we are not at home when i take it.
So, here i am, stuck now, at my parents' house since i took the wrong medicine. There is another party they really want me to go to and it's in the neighborhood. It is not for two and a half hours. There will be other children there. They'll drive, even.
To keep peace, i went since they'd be bitchy if i took a nap and asked them to take Roni. i spent the night sitting in a wing chair slowly downing screwdrivers, margaritas and shots of vodka and tequila. i got to pick the music and chill. i stayed there in that spot mostly listening to everyone else and responding once in a while until the parentals decided to go and then we jetted.
i put Roni to bed at their place and left to go to my apartment since i worked today. i woke up with the familiar misery i should have expected since i have been so short and bitchy for the last week. No wonder everyone and everything pissed me off this week.
Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed. i would chalk up the last three to that exact sentiment.
"Dream On" ~ D.M.
"What you take won't kill you but careful what your giving . . ." "
confessed on 2001-05-06