Bipolar Agitation

Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  Having Bipolar Disorder brings a whole new meaning to this age old adage.


I knew it was inevitable.  I have been wildly manic for the past two weeks or so.  Usually, "the super excited, happy, fabulous" is followed by "fuck you, fuck the world, fuck your Mama, shut the fuck up".  I woke up this morning highly agitated.  If you have never felt this magnitude of piss-offedness you probably can't fully understand.  There was no trigger, with, maybe, the exception of the fact that my sleep has been so irregular lately.  At best, four hours a night.  Sometimes I will catch a nap after I drop the girls off at school but most times that doesn't happen.  Even still, four hours of sleep followed by three hours of awake followed by three hours of sleep does not make for a healthy night's sleep.  I think it has been scientifically proven that you can not "catch up on your sleep".  Sleep is of the utmost importance when you have a mood disorder.


Envision this:  You just found out that you were passed over for the promotion and it was given to the girl that you trained and have been doing her work for her since she was hired because she is nice enough and frankly, you feel sorry for her because she really is the epitome of stupid.  Or.  You just found out that your spouse is having an affair...with your best friend and the big date he just took you on were paid with gift cards that his mistress gave to him.  Have you ever watched "The Breakup" and felt the need to smash your flatscreen then polish off a bottle of Riesling?  How pissed are you?  Are the veins in your neck bulging?  Now multiply that by 100. That is what Bipolar agitation feels like for me.  Except, most times there is nothing more stressful than a sink full of dishes going on at the moment. 


I looked around the house at the mess that always awaits me each new morning.  I was pissed.
Avery did not want to wear the jumper I pulled out this morning.  I was pissed.
Haylee did not eat her cereal.  I was pissed.
Bryan Adams was wailing on the car radio.  I was pissed.
I had to make a conscience effort to keep my eyes on the road and my car in the lane for fear of wrapping it around a phone pole.  I was that pissed.
I looked over Haylee's Girl Scout cookie order bullshit.  I was pissed.
Why do I have to sell mother fucking cookies?  I didn't want to be a Girl Scout when I was a girl, so I sure as fuck don't want to be one now.  I was pissed.
I get home from dropping the girls at school and again look at the squalor.  I was pissed.
I stripped the slip covers from the sectional to throw in the washer.  I was pissed.
My nose started bleeding.  I was pissed.
I ran into the corner of the doorway because I can't slow down.  I was pissed.
I took a remedy.  Within 20 minutes, I was not pissed. 
I passed out.
I woke up...pissed.
I started cleaning.  I sniffed too much bleach.  My nose is pissed.
I got the hiccups.  I was really pissed.
I asked Beau to pick me up a box of wine, dishwasher tabs, a box of Gain and furniture polish.  He came back with three.  What do you think he forgot?  I was soooooo pissed.
He went back.
I am beginning to not feel so pissed. 


I know this is only temporary.  This too shall pass.  I may wake up tomorrow fine and dandy, I may still be pissed or the usual that follows "the pissed", depressed.  If I had to choose between the two evils I think I would choose pissed.


Disclaimer:  I did not proofread this because I am too pissed.

Facebook Changes

I love facebook.  Most of the time. But when they go changing shit, I hate facebook.  I just clicked on my profile wall and noticed something I have never seen before.  "Memorable Stories".  It pulls up random statuses that you have posted in the past.  It is like a stroll down memory lane.  Well done, facebook.  Well done.


Here is just a sampling....

Donda In the words of the creepy woman from Poltergeist, this house is clean. Still tons of laundry but at least a ribeye ain't creepin' across my kitchen counter!

September 16, 2010

Donda Is there a doctor in the house? I keep having headaches that feel like  my brain is burning. I know I am not thinking that fast that I am burnin' it up!!

January 15, 2010

DondaVODKA: proof that money CAN buy happiness =)

October 28, 2009

Donda Jesse Ventura on the View discussing his book and the 9/11 conspiracy. He says US govt planned it, Barbara asks why and he says money....she acts dumbfounded and says, but to kill over 3,000 people? C'mon Barbara, your a journalist. Bank robbers kill over money, Mobsters kill over money, scorn spouses kill over money. Money is the root of all evil.

March 10, 2010

Donda Watching Idol and I just want to cut that little boy's hair so bad or give him some frizz ease or something!!!

The Peon Diaries~Chapter Six

Dear Diary,


It has been a while since I have written.  Things they are a changin'.  The castle has been in an uproar. I completely blame CB for leaving abruptly.  The Queen started hemorrhaging money like a Democrat on booze and extra security.  Fearing the other high-priced hookers would up and leave and she would be left with only the East Side Hookers, she devised a plan.  She began allowing the money-makers to have their own security detail.  CB inevitably returned.  You can take the girl out of the brothel but you can't take the brothel out of the girl.  She unwittingly fell in line and requested her own personal security staff as well.  The Queen's plan was working.  The girls think that it was their idea that they needed extra protection.  The Queen decided a while ago that she could no longer be head pimp so she began planting insecurities in the minds of the princesses.  She has been successful in delegating the menial task of keeping these bitches focused on what is important.  The Gin fund.  How can she get properly plastered if she is constantly worrying that the girls are not going to turn a profit?  


After reviewing the financials(don't ask how I got my hands on them), it has been a rather profitable last quarter.  


The extra security has come in handy as there has been a threat to the Royals. The tabloids initially reported it as a siting of the legendary chupacabra but after further investigation it was determined to be a duck-billed platypus.  Shew!  That was a close one.  We were worried for a moment it was an actual threat.  Granted the chupacabra is more aesthetically pleasing, it certainly poses more of a threat.  Leave it to the trash magazines to try and make the story out to be something bigger than it is.  

Blog Stalk Friday

It's been a long while since I joined a hop.  The PMS snuck up on me a week early so I am feeling rather shitty....kinda like a duck-billed platypus. I am not going to ramble on.

That's Just $hitacular

I'll start tomorrow.  The story of my life.  


Today has been absolutely shitacular!  I started off on a little over four hours of sleep and a nicotine deficiency so right there should tell you that maybe it might not be such a great day.  


On my way home from dropping the girls at school I was almost run down by a soccer Mom trying to pass me.  It must have been time for this bitch to rinse the Lilt home perm out of her hair.  Rush home to your egg timer, whore, don't mind me.


Because I am manic as hell, I managed to clean the house in under two hours.  When I made it to the bathroom, I was rather disgusted to find that someone pissed on the rim of the toilet. Big, dark orange, nasty drops.  I wipe it down everyday.  I have my boys trained so it was either the houseguest that we had yesterday is secretly suffering from Parkinson's or one of my boys is getting sloppy and trying to fuck with my sensibilities.  I hate to think the latter.


Right before that whole pisstastrophe I managed to set my kitchen trash can ablaze.  I brought my ashtray in from outside to dump it after I had taken half a smoke and began unloading the dishwasher.  Lahdee dah.  Not smelling anything...until I remember that I had left my facebook online and I figured that someone would be sending me a message and be all riled up if I didn't answer.  I bounded past the trash can to rectify the situation and apparently caused a backdraft with my big ass because smoke started rolling.  I didn't even realize where the smoke was coming from but I was seriously bout to stop, drop and roll!  I extinguished it quickly but it smelled terrible for hours.


Prior to all that, I realized the magnitude of the passive-aggressive.  Remember when I blogged about going out six days ago?  Well, he is still carrying the quiet anguish because I look to find that one of his facebook statuses read,  "call it "Grabbin A$$, Stealin' Pens, and BJ's just his name-O" in response to someone saying he should start a country/metal fusion band.  That would be the name of his first single.  Do you see the passive-aggressive here?  
So what do I do?

A big, ugly screaming match ensued.  OK, I am screaming and he is hanging up but whatever.  If he has learned anything over the years I would hope it would be not to antagonize me in the middle of a mania.  I go from highly productive, happy-go-lucky to crazy, fuckin' loon in 2.5.  Why would you want to screw that up?


So anyway, back to the whole thing about starting tomorrow.  I smoked more today than yesterday and I ate a big, fucking, double chocolate muffin and a chili dog.

I Resolve To

I make at least one resolution every year and most always they usually don't make it out of January alive.  This year is going to be different.  I have been thinking long and hard about what I want to accomplish this year and at the top of the list is, of course, the age old "quit smoking" and "lose weight".  

Instead of just saying it, I have devised a plan.

To quit smoking (and I have been trying to do this since September)  I am weaning myself off.  I started on Sunday and I am down to seven a day.  Which sounds like a lot but it's really not.  I am awake about 18 hours so that is like one every two and a half hours.  Tomorrow it will be every three and half hours and the next day, four and a half hours and so on until I can go all 18 hours with no smokes.  I have quit three times.  When I was a teenager I smoked with my friend Jamie and when I stopped hanging around with her I didn't smoke anymore.  Just stopped.  When I was 21, I started smoking again after my ex's stupid ass affair.  When I got pregnant with my son, I quit but started again when my ex's son started getting dumped on my doorstep on a regular basis.  I have never talked about him because he passed away in 2005 but one day I will.  In 1999, I quit for the two-week hospital stay when Dr. Letmecutyouthefuckupandsendyouhome ripped my insides to shreds with a lap-scope. I guess you can't count that time because I was mostly sedated and had tubes and shit all hooked up to me.  I think I can, I think I can.

Losing weight.  I have done this too.  And gained it back again.  I was looking at pictures from New Year's Eve, and frankly, I look like the Nutty Professor.  My skin looks like latex and I really, really do not like it.  I know part of it is this stupid medication but mostly it is because my exercise regimen consists of a few trips to the basement with a laundry basket on my hip and lifting the box of wine from the refrigerator.  This is going to be the harder goal.  I like immediate gratification so when I wear my ass out on the treadmill for an hour it really pisses me off that I don't see a difference or feel a difference so in one day, I am defeated.  To accomplish my goal of fifty pounds, I am going to break it down.  Five pounds a month seems like an easier thing to achieve than saying fifty pounds.  By my 39th birthday I will be where I want to be.  I am going to do what I have done in the past to lose weight.  A low-glycemic diet like the one that I had to follow when I had gestational diabetes.  I have a treadmill, a stationary bike, several Wii Fit thingies, a medicine ball and wrist and ankle weights so there is really no excuse for not exercising.  I just need to reprogram my brain.  I think I can, I think I can.

I also want to regulate my sleep and see NKOTB in concert.

New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve.  Boy oh boy, I was feeling lousy.  Not so much puky as this couch needs me and I need a feet transplant.  I had danced so much the night before in heels on a warped dance floor where there had previously been clumsy bitches throwin' down and spillin' valuable booze.  How in the filth flying filth was I going to pull it together enough to partake in the New Year's festivities?  By the grace of the Vodka Gods, of course.


By the time I started getting gussied up, Beau was still being a bit passive-aggressive about me going out the night before.  The biggest reason that I never go out ANYWHERE without him.  It does not matter that he goes running on the daily with his friends doing things he likes to do, he always has a knack for making me feel guilty about going anywhere.  Most of our life together I have found that "it" is never worth the silent treatment that is sure to follow.  I don't know if I am having a moment of reckoning or some kind of epiphany or my medication is truly effective but it doesn't much matter the way it used to.  Don't get me wrong, it is aggravating because I am a say what you mean and mean what you say type of girl and that wishy-washy go have fun, but I wouldn't advise it bullshit is just that...bullshit.  


So anyway, I managed to give myself a half-ass makeover and we stepped next door to our neighbor's house for a spell.  They were having a party but our plan was to go to our usual place.  I like to be in the energy and excitement of a crowd when the clock strikes midnight.  There ended up being a pretty large group of us. I had organized the posse on the off chance that crazy bartender might be there.  SarahLou came packing a bottle of FDS and  I had Bobbie and Stephanie with their guns a blazin'!  Fortunately, psycho-spritzer was not working and I never saw her come in as a patron so the only thing that caused me injury was the fried green tomatoes.  Mandi was super excited because she is always trying to perpetrate like she is a lover, not a fighter!  Woo Hoo!

We found ourselves star-gazing again.  My Cousin Vinnie was in the honky-tonk.  He kept lifting his basketball jersey.  Yeah, that was nasty.  There was a woman with a hair beret.  OK, we really couldn't determine if the hat was on the hair or the hair was on the hat so that kept us occupied for a good minute.  There was an encore of the Humpty Dance but I was prepared this time, I wore the flat boots.  


Now, I have to make some resolutions.

New Year's Eve Eve

I made an error in judgment.  Rewind to last Tuesday when I was invited to go out to dinner with a few people from high school.  I tried to resist but Sarah-Belle tempted me with the prospect of mucho chippos.  How can you resist that?  I agreed but I did so knowing that there is no such thing as "just dinner" just like there is no such thing as "just one little drink".  I had to save something for New Year's Eve, didn't I?


Awww!!  Ain't she just precious?  And her Mama and Aunt were just as delightful.


At dinner, Nikki lifted the carafe of salsa and naively asked if it was a Bloody Mary with no celery.  She was convinced (and had convinced us, as well) that Pablo should have been pouring the salsa all along.  Seriously?  Where in the hell do you get your salsa poured for you?  I need to be spoiled like that.  Strike that.  I am too much of a control freak to be having someone else in charge of the chippos.  Jose, just sit them right there.  Gracias.  Now, get the fuck away!  I guess after that blow she shouldn't have been surprised that she would have to exit the building to find the facilities.  I was under the impression that outcans were only popular in truck stops and the year 1908.


It was decided that everyone was going to go to an Irish pub after dinner.  There was to be an event called life-sized Jenga.  While I have no fucking clue what that was, Sarah-Lou and I were convinced by the others that it was early yet and it would be lots of fun.  Sarah-Lou was driving me so I was at her mercy.  There was no Jenga but as soon as we got to the bar, I started spotting celebrity look-a-likes.  I found a guy that looked like that kid on Nickelodeon or Disney with the voice that makes you want to jump off the top floor of a parking garage rather than hear one more syllable.  Fred, I think.  Then I found Chris Tucker.  I was so excited by my find that I scooped him up and made him run lines on the table.  I be shutting up but when he walk away, I be talkin' again.  OK, I am pretty certain that I was the only one being thoroughly entertained by Smoky but whatever.  Our waiter's name was BJ.  I ganked his ink pen after I wrote "I heart BJs" on his arm.  I still have his pen.


We decided that we wanted to dance so we ventured to a club next door.  The DJ looked like Drew Carey, pre-Price is Right, pre-successful lap band surgery.  I talked him into playing some old school tunes.  Nikki thought she was gathering the crew up to leave but not before we did the Humpty Dance.  It's real easy to do.  By this time, my liver had a protective outer coating of vodka and my feet were effin' killing me.  I really was limpin' to the side like my leg was broken.  Somebody had to take my boots off in order for me to make it back to Sarah-Lou's swagger wagon.  


It was nearly three AM...on a week night.  I don't do that.  I never go out on a school night.  I think I kept saying that randomly through the night.  No wonder people kept asking me if I am a school teacher.


There were so many other things that were fun or funny including but not limited to:  Limes with the Salmonella. The prepubescent, nerd boy whose tie I tried to gank.  A real-life, hard-core, Crocodile Dundee pimp that threatened to throw me in the Bay.  I think he meant Ohio River but that's just geography.  The artsy-ones that think Sarah-Lou and I would benefit from an eight week course of "franks n beans".  Grabbing Santa's ass.  The life the lesbian saved.  Shut your face!  I think he's a swinger!  And....I am taking 45% and the dental/vision is still on the table.


As expected, I felt like total crap the next day but I can't recall ever having such a fun Thursday night!