Dry spells, drugs and literature

It's been a week since my last post and I find that I have absolutely nothing to say.  Maybe this is the reason all my blogs have died.  I can say everything I need to say in less than a dozen posts.  If I get hit by a bus tomorrow, I guess I'll go out knowing that I said everything I had to say so I was pretty much done with life anyway.

I must having a dry spell.  Or maybe the people around me are having a dry spell because they're not doing anything I can make fun of and that's just sad.  I went to the library after work to pick up a couple of books to distract myself from doing the things that really need to be done, and there wasn't even a pair of random panties on the floor.  I miss the days of random panties in the middle of the public library.  Good times.

Since I have nothing to say but feel the need to say something anyway, I'll just give you a transcript of my stream of consciousness.  Right now I'm thinking about Laurie Notaro and how dang funny she is.  I suppose I'm thinking about her because I was just at the library and was looking for one her books called The Idiot Girl and the Flaming Tantrum of Death: Reflections on Revenge, Germophobia, and Laser Hair Removal.  How can you not love a book with that title?  I haven't even read it yet and it's already one of my favorites.  Her books are sort of a collection of essays about her daily life.  She can make even the most mundane tasks seem gut-bustingly funny.  She's written a couple of fiction books as well but I haven't read them, although I've been tempted by the one called There's a (Slight) Chance I Might be Going to Hell.

Yes, I do sometimes choose books to read based on a catchy title or even an eye-catching cover.  Sometimes it pays off, sometimes not so much.  I just can't be bothered to spend a whole 15 seconds reading the summary from the cover flap.  Who has time for that nonsense?  My philosophy is if I like the title font, I'll probably like the book.  When I'm on a reading binge, I'll go through about a book a week.  That may have something to do with my obsessive/compulsive nature that rears its ugly head now and then.  Fortunately, it does not infiltrate all aspects of my life all the time, thanks to several prescriptions that I take religiously.  As long as I am well medicated, I can appear almost normal if you don't look real close.

And yes, I am well medicated at all times and I feel absolutely no shame or guilt about that.  In fact, I consider it a public service.  It has very little to do with me, it's all about you.  Yes, it is my civic duty to make sure I am not unleashed on the general public without a substantial amount of mood altering drugs in my system.  It's just safer for everyone that way.  

A couple of years ago I went on a church women's retreat without benefit of my medications.  That's right, I was au naturale.  The event started on a Friday evening and I realized too late in the day that my prescriptions were out.  All I had to do was make it through the weekend so I could call in my refills on Monday morning.  I almost made it...I was SO close!  I got back from the retreat on Sunday afternoon and was sitting on the couch telling Jayson about the weekend and all the women that were there and all the great things that happened.  In the middle of my heartfelt story, Jayson stops me, looks out the patio door and says, "wow, look at that spider web."  

In retrospect, I understand that he was not ignoring me, he was just temporarily distracted by what must have been the most incredible spider web in the universe.  I understand distractions, I have my own attention deficit issues.  I understand how my husband operates and that he was doing his best to be an attentive listener while I babbled on.  I understand all of this...when I am appropriately medicated.  At the time I was not and I did not and I lost it.  I stomped off into the bedroom intending to change clothes and go to bed because it was a retreat weekend which means I was up all night for 2 nights in a row so I was sleepy and I needed to pout.  

On my way into the bedroom I reached for my wrist so that I could take off my watch and I discovered that my watch wasn't there.  This sent me spiraling into a panic.  Where was my watch??  Did I have it on earlier?  When did I last see it?  Did I take it off to shower and leave it laying somewhere?  Is it still in the dorms at Tall Timbers?  Did someone take it?  If I go back to get it will it still be there?  If I call and ask them to look for it, will one of the employees find it and keep it for themselves?  What do I do?  Is this some kind of sign that I'm too focused on time and I need to let go of it before it takes over my life?  Is time my cosmic enemy?  Do I need a breath mint?  These are the thoughts of a crazy person...or of me sans drugs.

In a manic panic, I stormed back into the living room and dumped the contents of my purse and overnight bag into the middle of the floor, desperately searching for my watch.  In my own defense, I need to say that this was not a Swatch.  This watch would be considered a dressy watch even though I wear it every day.  It's something I could not afford to replace which somewhat justifies my overreaction in my mind.  Although in my state of mind at that time, I could have had that same meltdown over a misplaced paper clip.  In the middle of my frantic searching, Jayson asked what I was doing and I told him between gasping sobs, "I-I-I c-c-can't f-f-f-f-find my wwaaaaaaatttcchh!!!"  I went out to the car to see if maybe it had fallen off in there and when I came back inside I heard Jayson tell Taylor, "Mom's having a meltdown, stay in your room."  

I was convinced that I had left my watch at Tall Timbers and needed to go back to get it.  Jayson suggested I call first.  Sounds logical, right?  Wrong.  That sounded to me like the most ridiculously offensive idea I had ever heard.  Not only would I risk someone stealing my watch, but it was obvious to me that Jayson didn't even believe me, he probably though I never even had a watch to begin with and I was making up this whole entire drama just for the fun of it.  Everyone was out to get me.

I explained to Jayson (in screaming hysterical sobs) that I needed to go back to Tall Timbers immediately to get my watch.  I knew I was too upset to drive those 80 miles on my own so I asked him if he would go with me.  Jayson, being the highly intelligent man that he his, agreed to the trip without  hesitation.  That must have been his survival instincts kicking in.  I went into the bedroom to put my shoes on so we could leave and when I glanced at the shelf where I keep my jewelry box I saw my watch lying right there on top.  When I came in from the retreat I must have gone straight to my closet to take off my shoes and I took my watch off at the same time.  I guess.  I still have no memory of removing the watch.

I went back into the living room and told Jayson (in slightly less than hysterical sobs) that I found my watch and was going to bed.  I stayed there until the pharmacy opened the next day.  That whole event was just a valuable reminder for my family that mommy needs her medications.  Any time I get a little bent out of shape, Taylor will ask in a soft sweet voice, "Mom, did you take your medicine?"  If I didn't, she wouldn't need to ask.