There’s so many people who can talk and talk and talk/And just say nothing or nearly nothing

Here is what happened today: I left work around noon after doing approximately two things that required a moderate amount of brain power. I suspect these tasks took me about twice as long as usual. I had to check, and double check, and ask stupid questions via IM, and reassign tickets to people who would receive them with annoyance. We’ve established that I am not so smart right now.

A compounding factor was that I could not get to sleep until 2 a.m. last night. My heart was pounding and I was feeling bad about every single thing I had ever done and said, so it was a lot like when I started this blog in the first place, as my past-tense evil confessional. Atavan was not making a fucking dent. I knew I couldn’t write and I was reading random internet articles that were titled with statements like “Ten years ago,” and I would determine that was moving TOO SLOWLY. I don’t need any stinking context, people. BUZZFEED was too in-depth for me. Alas. And then up at six, go to work again.

Side effects. So with the sleep dep and the brain fog I am literally running into walls at work, which is amusing in some ways, except bruises. I left work after noon, having put the biggest dent in my highest priority things that I could. I drove the El Camino to work because in some ways it feels safer and more comfortable to be cruising through town around in a boat. However, a 1981 car is not foolproof the way my newer Honda is.

I had parked across from a plant shop, and I wanted to pop in and get some soil, quickly, for some snake plants I had purchased last weekend. The temperature of the car was very mild and I think it was supposed to be 60 degrees outside. I knew the spaniels would be okay for ten minutes with the sun roof popped and the windows cracked. I set them up and said goodbye to them, and then realized I had locked them in with the keys in the ignition. The engine wasn’t turned over, but the battery was on. I sighed and tried to snake my arms into the sunroof and the window cracks.

People walked by on the walking trail next to me car, indifferent. I didn’t expect a lick of help, honestly. Years ago I had fallen over with Strudel on my back in a baby backpack on an icy patch and no one around me batted an eye. I just don’t expect help, really. Everything I had, like a phone or other tools, were locked in with the dogs. I had my work badge and six dollars in my skirt pocket.

Much to my surprise, two ladies who were probably about ten years older than me stopped on the path.

“Do you need help? OH NO PUPPIES.” I should have gotten dogs years ago.

“I do, but I’m not sure what you can do. The locks are tricky and I can’t reach my arms in.”

“Oh! She’s got skinny arms,” the grey-haired lady said about her friend.

“It’s true, I do.” I was impressed at how quickly she jumped into the back of the Elco and snaked her arms into the sunroof. She was only about two inches from the lock, which was the old manual silver type. There was some fiddling, and some jiggering, and not many suggestions from me since I was feeling stupid and exhausted but was making grateful and encouraging noises. Finally the solution was to send a skinny arm into the sunroof to guide a purse strap that went through the window and acted like a noose to pull the lock.

“YAY!” declared the sliver haired lady. “I have little dogs, too.”

“This is not me, usually,” I bumbled. “I’ve been going through this auto-imnnune brain fog thing. I have never locked a dog or a child into a car. But I’m getting better.” I felt super pathetic but I didn’t know what else to say.

“Well, that’s the worst. I’m sorry,” she said, and hugged me.

“I wish I had something to give you,” I said.

“It’s okay, this was fun!”

“I will do something nice for someone else, don’t worry,” I said.

And I will.

In Other News.

Once I finally got some soil I napped and then noodled around the house some. While I was buying the soil I was crashing into walls and pillars with my cart.

I bought a few snake plants a couple of weeks ago because this image from Mad Men never left me. Mmm snake plant entryway. I had snake plants in college and they worked pretty well in my 50s rental rambler.

I bought a few blowout pots from the bargain section and hit them up with teal and my bff, Rosemary Rustoleum to unite them.

And then when I came in from outside I realized that something delightful had happened. Orange and teal. Haters to the petards.


AHHH SYNERGY BONER LIGHTNING STRIKE!

After I lost my mind on Saturday and showed you my fringed jacket things got much worse and I started losing it and MEGA CLEANING. I would lay down to rest because I was exhausted and then I would be mad for no reason and get up again and scrub things.

This brain fog is reminding me of why I drank so much when I had the IUD in. Not only did a crave alcohol, but I was already stupid, so fuck it, I guess? It was easier. I drink much less now, but brain fog makes me want to, because it makes me not care that I am deeply stupid.

Look what I did to my fridge, angrily:

FUCK YOU, HAVE SOME SHELF LINERS. EVEN THE BEVERAGE SHELF.

And then this happened. Labeling due to my BFF dry erase Crayons. I am not kidding, these things have changed my life. I use them on everything in the fridge. Expiry dates SOLVED. Loaned containers SOLVED. Sometimes I make eyelashes on the giant google eyes on the fridge. I write H on hard boiled eggs. You get it.

The downshot (is that the opposite of the upshot?) of this is that I could not go to a volunteer gig I had lined up for the Japan trip, since I felt like my chest was collapsing and I could not be around people. That was pretty hard. I am not usually an anxious person unless someone is actually suing me or something. It has to be pretty extreme. I puttered around the kitchen muttering incoherently about “tech burritos”, which was possibly the best idea I’d ever had. I’d like to take this moment to publicly apologize to the Bloggess for scoffing disdainfully about her crawling around on a bathroom floor at Blogher 07 or whatever. I give up, I am humbled by my condition and medications.

The next day I had a “breakthrough” and “tech burritos” morphed into an actual novel idea, so I am outlining that now (hint: it has nothing to do with tech burritos) and I figure if I have burned off all my paid time off and sick leave, when my medication is done two weeks from now I should start writing this novel, because I think it’s good. i wrote a novel last year around this time. What did I do with it? Nothing. No one cares. Okay, I am off to make a meatloaf. I love you, and yes, that is good fortune and strawberry blonde beer talking.

I planted a peony under the bow, and stargazers are under the “plain” ones. I have a lot of ribbon right now because I had a little beauty subscription box issue around Xmas and I am just hoarding ribbon now. I like it.

XOXO,
Monkeychow Girl

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6 Responses to “There’s so many people who can talk and talk and talk/And just say nothing or nearly nothing”

  1. Brigid Keely says:

    The orange and teal looks really great together!

  2. Jay says:

    What nice helping ladies. Those snake plants are the plant we call “Mother in law’s tongue” in Australia I think. I love the teal and orange combo.

  3. dorrie says:

    Jesus fucking christ with the shelf liners.
    And that is pretty sound reasoning about drinking. I hadn’t thought about it that way before, but it strikes a bell in my mind somewhere. (In the foggy part, natch)
    I love that you are writing so much in your personal Gethsemane of illness, selfishly.
    And I call snake plants “Steve”.

  4. iasshole says:

    Right now I call all plants “Stove.” “What kind of name is Stove anyway?” (Bridesmaids).

  5. iasshole says:

    Also did I mention the shelf liners are WASHABLE??? Best part of this psychosis.

  6. Rachel says:

    Man I so know the heart pounding in the middle of the night thinking about every past transgression…sooo sucks. Hope you get a good full night of sleep soon, that’s one of my constant quests.