![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Ooh My Head...
Apr. 17th, 2005 11:42 am
Came home this morning w/a dirty, muzzy-feeling, almost mild hangover-like headache. Rob went over to his folks' house to see if he could change out the bearing on the car. I baked cookies from a crappy mix that I'll never experiment with again, and put a turkey in the oven. Before all this, though, I took a bath. Fell asleep in the tub, actually, briefly... but all the warm water seemed to do was sharpen and refine the headache, bring it from just a mild pre-headache sort of feeling to a full-blown stabbing frontal lobe headache. In a strange way, I'm more content with this actual needle of steel in my brain than the one beforehand - I figured I was revving up for a migraine, complete w/nausea & sensitivity to everything. Now, it's easily remedied w/a Benadryl & a Tylenol.
Both me & Kelly are on the rag - I started mine first, tho. Last night she was having a really hard time of things - kept dropping crap, couldn't concentrate, easily frustrated. I kept telling her to take a breather, get something to drink, etc. I finally had to pretty much force her out of the chair. I was like, "Go away. You're driving me crazy. Take 10 minutes & go bug someone else." So she did, & when she came back she felt a quite a bit better. And so did I. I'm glad that I'm on a strong enough pill that the only pre-menstrual anything I get is a backache & sensitive boobs. The depression is deepened a little. I feel more lonely, more needy. In a way it's good to be training because I've got a measure of company. I just wish I was training someone other than Kelly right now. She's very gullible and easily impressed, and I can't help myself sometimes. I love to tell her shit she doesn't believe & then prove it right (like Jeffrey Dahmer living w/his grandmother when he started killing young men) so the next time I completely lie to her she falls for it. I've got such a mean streak. And for no apparent reason, either.
It's weird, I get depressed & crave nostalgic, depressing music. Yah, throw me some Depeche Mode, Pet Shop Boys & Cyndi Lauper's darker stuff - 'Money Changes Everything'. I know it's bad when The Cure is too cheerful & The Doors aren't pessimistic enough.
Rob's trying to sell his inheritance - 3 guns. Whoopee. Maybe it'll get us another car, who knows? If not, it goes into the Washington fund. They are all gorgeous pieces, too. I'd love to keep them, but what do we need a bunch of shotguns & rifles laying around for, especially collectors' items? Jeff might have bought one or two, but Rob got on the phone w/him & tried a hard sell (as always, Rob can't just let some things go... he's like a gypsy w/out charisma or old-world charm), which disgruntled Jeff. I don't blame Jeff, tho - Rob's an ass.
It's already noon. I'm so tired, but I don't know if I can sleep or not. I'm almost afraid to lay down - the turkey is in the oven & all. Gotta set my alarm for 4 so I can get up & mess w/it, see if it's done, all that happy crappy. I hope Rob's folks feed him lunch.
Both me & Kelly are on the rag - I started mine first, tho. Last night she was having a really hard time of things - kept dropping crap, couldn't concentrate, easily frustrated. I kept telling her to take a breather, get something to drink, etc. I finally had to pretty much force her out of the chair. I was like, "Go away. You're driving me crazy. Take 10 minutes & go bug someone else." So she did, & when she came back she felt a quite a bit better. And so did I. I'm glad that I'm on a strong enough pill that the only pre-menstrual anything I get is a backache & sensitive boobs. The depression is deepened a little. I feel more lonely, more needy. In a way it's good to be training because I've got a measure of company. I just wish I was training someone other than Kelly right now. She's very gullible and easily impressed, and I can't help myself sometimes. I love to tell her shit she doesn't believe & then prove it right (like Jeffrey Dahmer living w/his grandmother when he started killing young men) so the next time I completely lie to her she falls for it. I've got such a mean streak. And for no apparent reason, either.
It's weird, I get depressed & crave nostalgic, depressing music. Yah, throw me some Depeche Mode, Pet Shop Boys & Cyndi Lauper's darker stuff - 'Money Changes Everything'. I know it's bad when The Cure is too cheerful & The Doors aren't pessimistic enough.
Rob's trying to sell his inheritance - 3 guns. Whoopee. Maybe it'll get us another car, who knows? If not, it goes into the Washington fund. They are all gorgeous pieces, too. I'd love to keep them, but what do we need a bunch of shotguns & rifles laying around for, especially collectors' items? Jeff might have bought one or two, but Rob got on the phone w/him & tried a hard sell (as always, Rob can't just let some things go... he's like a gypsy w/out charisma or old-world charm), which disgruntled Jeff. I don't blame Jeff, tho - Rob's an ass.
It's already noon. I'm so tired, but I don't know if I can sleep or not. I'm almost afraid to lay down - the turkey is in the oven & all. Gotta set my alarm for 4 so I can get up & mess w/it, see if it's done, all that happy crappy. I hope Rob's folks feed him lunch.
