I love drugs

I had a very early flight a couple weeks ago out to San Diego. Woke up at 4 to catch a 7 am. I will reiterate again, I am not a morning person. So I was none to happy about driving to the airport with out at least seeing the sun. The night before, S&P promised me he would give me a Xanax as soon as we were on the plane, telling me I would be completely knocked out and totally catch up on my missed hours of sleep. All was right in my world and that seemed like a great plan. I was not a bitch at all that morning. I was all smiles, waiting on that glorious pill to knock me out.

I have never fallen asleep with the TV on, I need complete quiet. I'm generally a very light sleeper and the racket on a flight isn’t conducive to a restful sleep for this finicky thing. So, imagine how pleased I was when S&P tapped me, saying we were landing in a few minutes. I didn’t remember the safety advisory with the mask coming out of the ceiling and reminding us there’s a flotation device under our seats. I didn’t remember taking off. Wow. I could really get used to this shit!

The last time I took an anti-anxiety pill was in preparation for to have a cyst removed from my neck. I asked a friend if she could spare one of her Ativans. The procedure was done right at the dermatologist, but I was sure I’d faint and cause a scene if I didn’t keep calm. Well, I caused a scene in another way, snapping numerous photos of my cysts in its little container to be sent to the lab. I was out of my mind loopy.

In both cases, I slept for hours and had a chaperone with me at all times, which means there is no way I could be on these pills on a regular basis. But it’s really nice to take a vacation from reality for a few hours and check out. This holiday season I will be accepting any of your muscle relaxers and or anti-depressants. Thank you in advance.

7 am

I have an unconventional relationship with the chiropractor I work for. He is much more of a friend than a boss. Which might have made it hard for him to reprimand me when I misread the schedule twice on Friday, showing up late to both appointments - but that’s neither here nor there.

A month or so ago I checked the schedule on my Google calendar before going to bed. This routine gets my mind right on exactly what I have going on the next day. I see to my horror he has me down for a 7 am. My heart starts pounding fast in my chest, the thought of waking up before 9 am seriously causes my blood pressure to rise. And then I remember him saying as I walked out the front door earlier that day, “see you at 7, bright and early!" To which I responded by giving him my middle finger and a “yeah right.”

So I text: Robert Duvall is on my schedule for 7am. What the fuck is that??? I totally thought you were joking when I left there today.

This guy lives and dies by his cell, and 12 minutes later when he hadn’t responded, I wrote again: I’m going to bed. I will be in for my 11 am appointment. I never work before 10, you know this and did not have a lengthy chat with me about me coming in that early. So I am assuming this is a mistake.

14 minutes later I still hadn’t heard back from that bitch. I was having a mild panic attack, envisioning this new patient sitting in the lobby at 7:10 and the Dr. with his hands up saying, “She should be here, I confirmed with her yesterday.”

I text again, since I’m laying there thinking did he REALLY schedule me a 7am!?!? Dude, I never ever get up that early. I'm not even close to functioning at that hour. I am shocked you didn’t talk to me about this.

And finally he answers with: Gotcha!! Robert Duvall is an actor from the Godfather. See you at 11.

I replied: You Fucker.

I wonder how many people are able to  say something like that in one breath and then ask for their check in the next.

Nice ride

I met a guy on Yahoo Singles years ago. Our first night chatting by instant message was a long night of exchanging our life stories, dating trials and tribulations, future expectations, etcetera, etcetera. After learning so much about someone, it seemed silly to let the fact he lived in Chicago keep us from being friends. I have a strict 35 mile radius dating-sphere, so a relationship of that sort was out of the question.

Once a month or so we will catch up in the Yahoo chat box. Recently, he was telling me he had just gotten rid of his moped. I didn’t know he had one in the first place. “You must not get to ride very often with that weather, huh?” “Hahahahahaha” was his response.

Then he says, "you have never heard the term huh? A moped is a girl that’s fun to ride until your friends see you on it."

WOW. I was speechless. That cuts like a knife! Poor girl… God, I hope I have never been anyone’s moped. Just goes to show guys are horny bastards and will hump anything.

Since I love me that urban dictionary, I’m sending you the link to moped.

Unfortunately ladies, it's a very real term.

A little bit of crazy goes a long way...

Neuroses are a funny thing.

It was pointed out to me the other day that I have a few. In all honesty, really, who doesn’t? I prefer the term "quirky" but that's here nor there.

PETA has brain washed me and I will jump through hoops to spare a poor chicken cramped living quarters. I limit my dairy big time, thinking somehow I’m causing sores on one less cow’s udder. However, I did ask for a bee bee gun for Christmas so I can eradicate the squirrels that hang out in double digits in S&P’s back yard. I hate cats and birds and would do the same to them if they started coming around in numbers that large.

I really watch what I eat to maintain my petite frame. I avoid white carbs like the plague. The 4 mini pieces of candy I had this Halloween will be the only candy to pass these lips till next October. I can’t tell you how many years it's been since I had a soda. With this said, you cannot pay me to drink a light beer. You can take your Bud Light and sit and spin, that's all its good for if you ask me. I require full calorie, full bodied deliciousness. I’ll just throw away the bun that my veggie burger comes on to compensate.

I have been making the switch big time to more natural ingredients in all of my toiletries. Your skin is, after all, the biggest organ. Parabens and sulfates are in so much of our lotions, shampoos and conditioners. But I am a crazy woman when it comes to candles and I burn them at an alarming rate. These are not the organic soy candles. Oh no. These smell up the joint with toxic fumes so pleasant I almost want to cry. I can only imagine what they are doing to my lungs. I might as well light a cigarette for funsies.

Just when you think you have me figured out, I'll do, say or think the exact opposite. The chatter up here in my melon justifying these things to myself can be exhausting. So thank you all for dealing with my cray cray.