Rx

So, I've been losing it.  Totally losing it.  I've always known that Ben was going to put me in a home when I turned 40, but this is ridiculous. 

In addition to my many, many ailments, I've also been (self)-diagnosed with ADHD.  I always just accepted the fact that my brain like a snow globe.  But I'm 36, enough is enough.  My sister worded it perfectly.  "If you could hear inside my head at all the millions of thoughts that are being fired at once, you'd think I was a crazy person".  When I heard that, I was like, "YES!!! YES!!!! That's what I've been trying to tell you!!!"  I can't process all the thoughts that are being fired at once. What looks like me being in a bad mood, is simply me trying to focus. 

My distractions range from opening a drawer and wondering what I'm looking for, to losing car keys, to circling the yard aimlessly to it taking me 4 hours to empty the dishwasher.  I simply can't take it.  When I'm about to embark on a project that will take time to figure out, all my eyes can process is "words words words words".  I become so fixated on the final outcome that I forego all the necessary steps it takes to accomplish the goal.  Like, I won't put my seatbelt on until I'm 1/4 the way to my destination, because I was so focused on getting there. You know where this story is going.

So, I'm at my doctor's office, my beloved doctor whom I have affectionately named, "Dr. Feelgood".  He walks in and I just want to take my shirt off.  Not because he's terribly good looking, but because I want to show him my appreciation.  (come to think of it, seeing my boobs isn't necessarily a reward, but more of a punishment).  He asks me what's up and I told him what had happened just that very morning:  I went upstairs to make beds around 9 AM and I stood in the hallway and noticed that all the beds were already made.  My first thought was that someone had broken in and made our beds when I'd driven Gabe to school.  But then I thought, "that's just silly". Then I stood there trying to recollect making the beds.  I couldn't.  How did I forget something that I had apparently just done? So, I tell this to Dr. Feelgood and he asks me a variety of questions which I know will just lead to the inevitable.  Then, as predicted, he whips out his prescription pad and I start to drool.  1, 2...6, I'm skipping out of there with my samples in tow.  I love modern science. 

Who knows what the long term effect of all my pharmaceutical usage will lead to, but I don't really care.  So, I grow a tail.  Who cares? I'm done having kids, so it's not like I'm harming my unborn children.  My parents died at respectively 52 and 60, so it's not like I'm planning to live forever.  I'd rather be youthful and sane than old and demented. Any day.  Plus, I enjoy the productiveness of my hazy days.  I mean, wouldn't you rather be efficient and happy than to spend your entire day white knuckling it?  Well Dr. Feelgood thinks so and for now, I'll listen to him.  He's a doctor after all.  Well, not so much a doctor, but a pharmacologist.  Well, he's not exactly a pharmacologist, but runs an illegal drug pushing operation under I-96.  You know what---I know what you're thinking and don't judge me.  He who lives in glass houses....

*totally kidding.  Dr. Feelgood is a certified Doctor of Osteopath.  At least that what his photoshopped diploma reads. 

more random observations

If you're in line in the grocery store and you're trying to save time by using the self check out kiosk, please don't take that very opportunity to teach your children how to scan---because chances are, the people behind you are in a hurry as well. Take a social cue and get on with it.

Is there really a need to put the sweetened oats in Lucky Charms?  I mean, don't you just push them aside to get to the marshmallows anyway?

I was at our local library today and as I approached the door, I noticed a sign reading, "no latex zone". I didn't realize they had such a problem with patrons wearing surgical gloves.  Great--now where am I going to have unprotected sex??

I have to wonder about these ads boasting, 'painless dentistry'.  Really--? Because it's 2010.  I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as painful dentistry anymore.  That's like offering 'live babies' at the birthing center.