Wednesday, March 19, 2014


Thus far, and it's only Wednesday, it’s been a week of a thousand small cuts, paper cuts, pin pricks. On Monday I got divorced, baked muffins and cooked dinner. Tuesday morning I spent an hour and a half waiting for my car to be serviced. No complaints there, I take my Toyota to the luxe dealer with the clean, comfortable waiting area for service, and as I’m still under warranty, it’s free and painless. I had my laptop with me and got a lot of work done. I can tolerate that Kelly and Michael in the background but when Kathie Lee and her partner-on-crime come on, it’s just hurts my whole self, my head, my soul, I just don’t understand how people can watch these two. Inane, annoying, screetchy, they are a parody of what some people think women should be, I just don’t get it. But hey, they’re a hell of a lot more popular than I am, and better paid too, so who am I to talk? I find them offensive. Offensively stupid, offensively trite, offensively coiffed, but again, who am I?

I drove back to town in my ship-shape automobile and felt so, so tired. I almost went for a manicure, because my beloved blue, blue, blue sky day, light blue nails were driving me crazy, I felt as though they no longer represented my mood, myself, my anything. Colors are important, I drove by the nail salon, but didn’t even have the energy to go in, I just wanted to sleep, so I crawled back into bed at 11:30 and slept until school pick up time at 2:30. I could have slept all day. Little boy thinks I should dye my hair pink again, "be pinkalicious," but I'm not feeling it.

This morning I started the day by slitting my index finger open, not a deep wound, but one of those awful, horizontal flappy cuts that was just deep enough. I had three antique bell jars on my dining room table that I light votives in. They looked a bit dusty so I lifted them up with a finger in each and placed them in my other hand to carry, not realizing that one had broken, until it bit me, slit me. I was met with an inability to coagulate which after fearing I had leukemia or some other dreadful thing that keeps you from clotting, I realized that I’ve added baby aspirin to my daily handful of supplements which interferes with coagulation. I could only get it to stop bleeding temporarily with a bandaid with a snug rubber band around it, which got me to school and back, but I bled profusely for three hours, yuck.

I had an appointment scheduled with my primary care doctor at 10:30, to test drive my new health insurance, so I bled on over and she didn’t think I needed stitches, which is good cause she doesn't do stitches, she said to keep pressure on it until it finally stopped, which thanks to tighter bandaid, it has. I went to the doctor primarily to load up on prescriptions, because Medicaid pays for certain over-the-counter meds. I can fill scripts for Claritin, Pseudoephedrine, expensive allergy eye drops, ibuprofin, and I am in need of goody bag items. I’m a taker not a maker and I’m getting over my discomfort with this Medicaid thing. I have paid taxes my whole life, well until this year because I’m too poor, god knows my exhorbitant property taxes don’t get me much, our public schools suck, my street doesn’t get plowed and Providence is one giant pothole, so I’m loading up my goody bag with free drugs, you just never freaking know when you might need a decongestant. I went in with a list, but I forgot the vitamins, vitamin D was on the approved list, I’ll have to go back for more because for once in my life I don’t have a co-payment. I do thoroughly believe there should be universal insurance for all, socialist scum that I am. There’s something perverse about my ability to get quality insurance, only because I can’t afford it. For the first time ever, the benefits booklet is readable and clear and people call me to make sure I understand everything and encourage me to take advantage of my benefits, and when I call with a question, someone answers. Way to go Federal Government. Thank you Affordable Care Act, fuck you self-serving, stingy, war-mongering, weapons instead of social services spending Republicans.

I asked the doc to peek in my ears to confirm they are fine and dandy despite the diving, yet passed on the opportunity to have a bone density scan or my cholesterol checked, I’m just over medical tests. Over. I can’t really make any more lifestyle changes, so if my cholesterol is high and my bones aren’t dense, so be it, least of my worries. After that I went to the studio but didn’t do any work, not a spec, just couldn’t clear my head. I checked my email, and my ex’s response to me letting him know I wanted to go away the first week of August off was to let me know that he was going away the first week of August. So I finally went for my mani/pedi which was only a pedi and a polish change because I can’t bend my index finger. I was aiming for dark, sparkly gray to suit my mood, but it wasn’t dark enough, and I'm not feeling sparkly, so I went with “wicked” which is a red/black. Black with an sinister red hue, perfect. Look out, something wicked this way comes and it’s me. My wicked self walked up to the kitchen store with my saran wrapped toes and bought a teapot with infuser, larger than the one I have now which is perfect, and then on the way out, saw matching little cups a la chinese restaurant, so I got those too for a proper tea party, if only with myself. A wicked tea party. Hello goody-bag.

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