Chronicles of impatience and drug cravings...
It is winter all of the sudden! It's been hot as the seventh level of hell since before Christmas, actually since LAST winter, and all of the sudden I wake up yesterday morning and it's 60 degrees! This morning it was 52 degrees and I refused to get on the bus to go the clinic. I don't have clothing designed for 52 degree weather- I live in a state with no winter! You can't get much souther than SoFla (in the US, I mean), and it's APRIL- it has no right being this goddamn cold. The next "informed" asshole who talks to me about global warming is getting kicked right in the fuckin' nuts.
Yesterday I went to the new ob/gyn for my first appointment with him. My appt was at 145pm, and I guess I was about 5 minutes late. When I got there, I walked up to the desk and noticed there was no paper for signing in, which I thought was a standard practice at all dr offices. So I asked the receptionist (that is a long word, so from now on I will refer to the receptionist as "the lady" cause it's shorter and I have a feeling that word will come up a few more times while typing this story, k?) if I should sign in. The lady says no, just sit down. So I sit down.
At about 230, the lady points to me and asks me what my name is, and why didn't I sign in- the same lady who told me I didn't have to when I asked. I brought this point up, and she responds with, "I was on the phone." Fun start for an impatient moody bitch like me. To add to my frustration, the waiting room was about the size of the living room in a single-wide trailer, and all 5 (or 6?) seats were taken as well as all the standing room. Hell, all the oxygen was taken and it was hotter than holy hell in that waiting room. So I go stand outside, leaving the door open so I can hear my name when it's called. The lady tells me to close the door, which I did until she went back into the little office-thingy behind the window and then swung it the fuck back open.
At about 250, I went up and asked what the bloody hell is taking so goddamn long. Actually, I didn't say that. I asked how much longer it would be, because I had somewhere to be at 4pm. It was actually my mom who had to be somewhere at 4, but she was my ride and I was pretty fucking far from home. East side of PB Lakes Blvd- those of you who know where I live (and know SoFla) can appreciate how far that is. The lady asks where I have to be at 4. I tell her that it's actually my ride who has a prior commitment, and that was why I made a 145 appt instead of later... not that it's any of her damn business where I have to be. She says I will be the next one called, so I stay in the oxygenless waiting room figuring it won't be much longer. At about 330, after 3 more women were called back, I went back to the lady. Here is a basic transcript of our conversation:
me: What's going on? I thought you said I was next.
her: You are next.
me: You said that over half an hour ago, but I've watched 3 people get called since you told me that. Can I just reschedule? I can't stay much longer- it has been almost 2 hours.
her: Okay, can you be here tommorrow at 730am?
me: Can it be later than that? I'm busy mornings [this is not just a lie to sleep late, I have to take the stoopid Palm Tran city bus to and from the methadone clinic every damn morning and usually don't get home until 8pm. The clinic, of course, is in the opposite direction of the dr's office].
her: Why can't you be here in the mornings? Where do you have to be and why?
me: I just can't.
me: Does it really matter why? I can't be here that early!
her: Just tell me- is it something court ordered? What is it?
me: I'm sorry, but I don't see how it's any of your business. [what I didn't say: "You're so worried about what I'm doing at 4 and what I do in the mornings when you can't figure out the schedules of when people are supposed to see the dr! That could be my scheduled masturbation time for all you know, or I could be on house arrest and can't leave until 9am! Maybe I don't want to tell you nothing! Why don't you work on making sure people don't have to wait 2 hours when they have an appointment- you know, your job, that thing you get payed to do- and let me worry about my personal life." It would have been fun, but I held my tongue.]
her: Okay, how is 1030am tommorrow?
me: Sounds great to me.
So I left at about 340pm, which was 1 hour 50 minutes spent sitting in that sweltering waiting room with both thumbs up my ass. I went back today at 1030am, like I was sposed to, and only had to wait an hour, but most of that time was spent in the exam room by myself (sweet, sweet oxygen!) instead of the Haitian-packed waiting room. Oops, that was racist like Obama! I meant Guatpacked, not Haitan-packed! Hah! Obama's grandmother was a "typical white person!" Hah! She raised him because his [black] dad split on him. Doesn't that make him a... "typical black person"? You can't say typical black person, that's RACIST!!! God how I love laughing at hypocrisy.
What if I say that black people smell bad and so do their neighborhoods, and even if I could vote (I'm a convicted felon so I can't) I would never vote a nigger into office, especially a nigger who hates whites and is proud to hate whites, especially a nigger who hates whites with the middle name of Hussein!?! Is that racist? It is? GOOD!!! I don't care, I'm not running for president. I'm allowed to be racist.
I have a FUCKING MIGRAINE FROM HELL!!!!! It's just now starting to fade, but I got it around 130pm (it is now 7pm). I tried everything: ice packs, laying in the quiet darkness, homeopathic migraine remedy that you rub on your forehead, tylenol, going to the chiropractor, chain-smoking, not smoking, and finally 4 Excedrin Migraine. I saved that for last cause pregnant bitches aren't supposed to have aspirin, but the only other thing that works every time for migraines is heroin. I figured the Excedrin was the lesser of two evils. And guess what? It worked... a little bit. Still achy, which is annoying.
I miss shooting up. Also I'm out of weed. Hopefully SOMEONE (you know who you are) will hook me up because of the favor I did for SOMEONE.
libby: Cook? I can barely make macaroni and cheese! My talents lie elsewhere. Sashimi kicks ass, but preggos aren't sposed to eat raw fish. That sucks the big hairy one, especially last night when my dad took me to a Chinese/Japanese restaurant and I stared longingly at the sushi bar before ordering lo mein.
jamie: If I can stay off drugs (when I say "drugs" I'm including booze and pharmies, but not weed) until the baby is born, I'll probably get someone to watch him/her for a little bit and get myself a reward shot. Not right away, and only once. Hah... only once. What a fucking joke.
anonymous 1: Thanks for that! My brother is awesome, and he did that haircut for some kind of performance either for class or for an extra curricular activity. It looked cute in person, that pic didn't do him justice but it was the only one I got before he left again so I posted the fucker. It does look terrible in the pic though- I will give you that.
coke addiction kinda sucks: Sorry bro.
connie: Are you sure you want to start with me on here? I guess so. I like when people I know in real life come online and "make requests" such as that one, cause I get to speak my mind without them being able to walk away or hang up on me. If you don't read this- I don't care. 'Twas fun to write. "Leave my son alone." You talk like your son is in jr high school and you just found out he was smoking pot with the big kids. Last I checked, he is a GROWN UP who is perfectly capable of deciding who he does (and doesn't) want to spend time with. In case you weren't aware: HE got in touch with me and told me he had to talk to me, it's important. Don't believe me? It's on the comments section, right here. I bet you're even the one who pointed him here after he and I hadn't spoken for... what, months? Yeah, months. All I did is do what he asked me to do- call him at home, visit him at the store during his break, etc. You have no right to tell me what to do. If I want to see him while he's on break (read: on his OWN time outside of your house), the only person who can really tell me no is HIM. Not you. DEFINITELY not you. I do what I want, when I want and you can't do shit about it, because you have no authority over me. Maybe you have authority over your 23-year-old son, but that's only because he lets you. If you want us not to see each other, talk to him. There is at least a SMALL chance that he will listen to you, while with me you don't have a snowball's chance in hell. Let your adult son be a fucking man- he does have balls, you know. Trust me- I've played with them. Boo-ya!
jimmy: Connie isn't my mother (thank god for that!) or Luke's mother. She was almost my mother-in-law at one point, but it didn't happen. Don't talk about stuff you know absolutely nothing about, cause you come out sounding like an ignorant asshole... k?
anonymous 2/connie: Oooh, venom! Scary! By the way, I still haven't forgotten the time you woke up my folks at 330am, threatening to call the police if I didn't return the iPod that MWS sold me for cash money- regardless of what he may have spent the money on, hah. You call the police more than 911 operators! Feel free to keep calling 'em- I now have nothing to fear.
Until next time, my dear friends and enemies and acquaintances and strangers!
4 months ago