Being Unemployed is Hard Work: A Stream (of consciousness) Style Saturday Summary

Clearly I've been posting less this month as I've been subbing. It's good that I'm actually bringing a little money in (I have a grand total of $27 in my bank account and $27 cash, ooooh yeah.), but, like with The Internship from Hell, I'm too tired to do anything else.

I actually fell asleep downstairs for the first time in...I can't even remember the last time I fell asleep downstairs. I imagine it had something to do with mono. Not only did I fall asleep downstairs, come to think of it, I fell asleep during The Big Bang Theory, and that's serious. I haven't seen the boyfriend Herbert since the end of June, so TBBT is like having Herbert around a little bit.

He's kind of Sheldon-ish.

Rather Sheldon-y.

In his, and my, defense, the only character on TBBT that I would consider dating would be Sheldon. Maybe, maybe Leonard, but only after Sheldon rejected me. And that's not just my Reverse Gay-dar for Jim Parsons talking because, like I said, Herbert is rather Sheldon-y.

In fact, I found a word today that explains my affliction. Not the reverse gay-dar affliction, but my attraction to intelligence: sapiosexuality, or "being attracted or aroused by intelligence and its use." So that, plus my affinity for the tall and thin, adds up to my attraction to Sheldon and, of course, Herbert.

What was I talking about?

Right: fatigue and its impediments to productivity. I've got surprising amounts of work piled on my head for someone so unemployed...being unemployed, itself, is an incredible amount of work, as it turns out.

--I need to write a letter to the director of my high school's spring musical to offer my costuming skillz and beg for any amount of money I can get-- at least enough to cover supplies, I absolutely have to be able to not lose any money on this deal because, obviously, I don't have any money to lose. I can't get further into debt on another costuming whim.

It hurts to call it a whim. To reduce it that way...but it makes it easier to give up a dream.

It hurts to know I can't live the life it requires to do the work.

Sister-in-Law Janet suggested I start a website of children's costumes or pageant dresses, but, of course, the problem is the start-up capital. So I get a cheap domain and my brother Arthur does the site design/creation thing, where does the money come from for the fabric & etc.? Where do I get a model or advertising?

It's kind of funny how you need money in order to make money.

-- I need to look for jobs. Which is hilarious. I'm unemployed, but I'm too busy working, or tired from working, to look for jobs.

There's another layer, too, where that now that the school year has started, the in-school or about-school-somehow-vaguely jobs have been filled and therefore taking out a large portion of where I was looking (the possibility of getting state employee health insurance makes my mouth water) which is a major shame but my only income and only possibility of income began with school starting.

Yeah, figure that one out. This is my life now.

-- I have work to do online. Work on this blog (I missed my own launch of Wednesday Weigh-Ins, augh), I have Chandler's half of our Lion King review/analysis to work into mine, advertising this blog to find some more readers, and working on the launch of the second (more professional, far less personal) blog...which I had an excellent idea for last night that, while awesome, opens up whole new doors of work. Of course.

That blog will have ads, so maybe it will bring in a little scratch...but how do I advertise? Augh. Work.

-- Offline work: novels. I had breakthroughs on two of them and have hit a very hard wall on the third.

Plus, I need to do something about my bedroom...it really hit me the other day that I'm not going anywhere any time soon (you'd think I would have figured it out already...)...I know I mentioned it the other day but...damn...I really do need to do something about that. It may help my mindset.

Like those people that are like, "Messy room, messy mind."

It's funny how I get more and more normal as my health improves. I'm less whacky than I thought, as it turns out. For example, I got up this morning at 9:30 a.m. and I just feel more productive without actually, you know, being more productive. I really haven't gotten anything more done but it just feels good. Honestly, more normal.

Oh, AND I need to apply to grad school, but I can't afford to apply to a bunch and get screwed on application fees plus what it costs to take the GREs...damn.

...

6 days until my next appointment with Dr. S., so maybe we can take another step towards straightening me out. I think the Lyrica is helping (Say what!), but it's not at the level it needs to be...not yet. So I need more. We'll talk about that.

We'll also talk about the Mystery Diagnosis that hasn't seen much of a change...maybe a little dullness, but it's all still there. Le sigh.

AND, to top it all off now, I need a nap. Of course I do. Damn it.

Hang in there, everyone.

Waiting...

This thing, whatever it is, has made my daily life so surreal. And complicated.

I'm sitting here, waiting for the pain to start. Just waiting for the crippling pain to come, and I really can't do anything else. I've moved some things, made some preparations, because once it comes I won't be able to do anything at all...I can't look for a subbing job even though I desperately need the money, because who knows what condition I'm going to be in this week?

So I have to just sit and wait.

It hasn't started yet, and if it doesn't start tomorrow and it decides to start the 28th I may not be able to make it to my doctor's appointment, but I need to go because I need all of my many prescriptions renewed because my insurance no longer covers them under my old doctor.

I'm also out of the good pain pills my father gave me, and if he's out, too, I'm extraordinarily screwed.

Mick and Debra had their meeting with the child study team at Manny's school so we're all waiting for their call.

So I'm waiting.

Arthur's Christmas present last year was to be a Doctor Who-esque scarf that I never finished, so now that I'm going to see him Saturday and he's been complaining about his scarf-less-ness I'm trying to get it done, so I'm knitting while I'm waiting.

Did I mention I was waiting?

I'm already sore, and the whole deal has been making the fibromyalgia worse since it started, so I'm miserable, sore, knitting and waiting x 2.

Waiting sucks.

Sometimes Right

There's this hilarious site called Not Always Right and it features quotes from the customers of the world who...let's just say they're not always right.

Sometimes, though, sometimes the customer is right. Like today, when the GYN's office finally called.

Naturally, as with all phone calls you're waiting for (or I'm waiting for, anyway), I missed it. The voicemail said, "Hello, this is Dr. Tra-la-la's office and we have the results of your ultrasound. Please call us back as soon as possible at 555-GYNS", so I call right back.

Receptionist: Hello?

Me: Hi, the office just called me?

Receptionist: No.

No? No?! Really. Wow. That's amazing how the voicemail just magically appeared like that 30 seconds ago. Also...how rude!

Me:...uh...yeah, I received a voicemail saying my test results were available.

Receptionist: *annoyed sigh*

I'm so sorry for interrupting you from doing your job by asking you to do your job!

Receptionist: Who called you?

Me: They didn't say.

Receptionist: *clearly irritated* What's your name and who's your doctor?

Me: Plum Jo, I see Dr. Tra-la-la.

Receptionist: Hold.

It was like a command. I was ordered to hold. So held I did-- I'm nothing if not obedient. I held for 15 minutes.

After those 15 minutes a much nicer receptionist told me my ultrasound results were normal (Yay, I think...), but that my primary doctor hadn't sent my most recent blood test results, so we can't do anything yet. Once the doctor gets the blood test results he'll call back with the next step.

THESE PEOPLE CLEARLY DON'T REALIZE THAT THE PAIN IS COMING.

So I called my old primary doctor's office (I'm still in the process of switching GPs as the first appointment with my new one is the 28th.) and left a message for them to send over the results ASAP. Why did I leave a message? Because the records/referrals lady only works until noon.

What the crap is that? People have to wait a whole extra day if they can only make the call during their lunch break? Or if another doctor gets back to you after 12? Harsh.

And as for jerky receptionist up there, it's your job to talk to people and be pleasant. I'm pretty sure this was the same jerky receptionist that, before my first appointment (Natural Disaster Rag), had me announce all of my personal information in front of the entire waiting room. Like name, birthday, social security number, that kind of thing. You know, the kind of stuff that an identity thief is just praying to hear, and the kind of thing you fill out on those new patient forms so she was about to get all that information on paper in front of her anyway.

She also kind of looks like my bitchy aunt.

But lucky(?) for me my credit is in such poor standing that an identity thief would get laughed at if he tried to take out a credit card or something in my name.

Not even kidding, the interest rate on my credit card is 29%. My dad said he's going to close the account to see if he can negotiate a lower rate since technically it's his card, too. Jesus, I hope he can...I'd really like to be able to afford to move out some time before I'm 30. That'd be nice.

Sickness has unfortunately pushed back some pending posts...I don't know why I even bother teasing them anymore, they still never get out in a timely fashion. I'll work on that. Probably tomorrow...

Another Day in Hell

The past few days have been brutal, and as such I'm terrified of the pain that's coming...since this thing changes with my cycle I know I've got a little over a week before it becomes excruciating again and there's nothing I can do about it...from now til then the discomfort's going to grow incrementally until the day comes when it's unbearable. Considering that it's been getting worse with every month that goes by and last month it was so bad I cried I'm really, really scared of what's coming.

I haven't heard from the GYN about my ultrasound results. Chances are that since the CT scan didn't show anything that the ultrasound won't show anything either, but it's still nerve-wracking-- especially since they wouldn't let me see the images during the test so I don't know what the doctor is looking at, I can't be sure there's nothing.

I keep going over the CT images, making sure there isn't anything that the doctors might have missed being too focused on my stomach and intestines, any blip of anything, but there's nothing there.

So then I think maybe the ultrasound got a different angle or something...but if there was a cyst or tumor the doctor would have called right away...but maybe he hasn't even seen it yet?

So then what's next after that? An MRI? Surgery is coming as long as these things keep coming up negative.

I don't know what to do. Do I keep applying for jobs? What if I get one? Can I handle it? How can I be reliable when I know I've got semi-random crippling pain several days a month?

So if I can't work, then what? Disability? That's barely enough to live on...how would I pay my bills? Medical, credit card?

And if I went on disability, would I still be able to write? Like if I open the new blog with ads, or by some miracle I get an agent interested in me?

I'm stressing myself out now. I'm going to go knit and pretend that I'm normal.

Bleeeggh

Three things can be counted on to make my pain worse: stress, weather, and my cycle.

My credit card has been suspended (thanks, Bitchface!), I'm going to get my period in like, 3 days, and we've got thunderstorms today-- a nice little prologue for Hurricane Irene.

Irene's looking like a real bitch:

I need another nap. I hope to have a better post for you tomorrow-- definitely by Saturday, but after then who knows if our house will have power, let alone internet. We'll just have to wait and see.

Batten down the hatches, kids. Stock up on water, non-perishable food, and candles. Be safe.

Oops...Sunday Summary

My bad. Completely forgot what day it was yesterday.

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Baked: I've been baking eggs daily now, God, it's so tasty...in fact, I think I'm going to do a recipe post and see how that goes. Lisa has a cooking blog, by the way, and it's awesome. I don't read it as often as I should, but to be honest I end up missing her too much. Give it a look, though, she's a charming girl that makes tasty food. She hasn't baked eggs, though...oh, man, now I want an egg. A baked one.

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What Upppppp: Salami & Orchids is now a full-fledged member of the Blog Catalog!! See our shiny new badge at the bottom of the column on the right-hand side. I definitely need a header picture now...I'm working on a few designs, I'd like to get something up in the next month or so.

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Project Runway!!: Holy cow, Nina's a bitch. Did you see it? The new episode's challenge was to make a dress for Nina Garcia, who wears essentially the same 2 things over and over again in one of maybe four different colors. So after the designers had time to sketch they each had an individual meeting with Nina herself where she changed everything about the designer's designs and, I think, didn't give them enough range to actually design anything! Heidi was a much, much better client that...one...time. The poor designer's choices were reduced to "sheath dress" and "pants and blouse" with sedate colors and patterns. Complete snooze fest. Especially since there's so little drama this season! The "coming next week" commercials show more clashes between the designers, and while I'm not looking for another Wendy Pepper I'd like somebody to show a little personality.

And can I just say that Anya is freaking awesome or a total liar? According to her she only learned to sew 4 months before starting Project Runway? She's either a genius or she's faking it...I mean, really, it doesn't make sense, "I never dyed fabric before but I just managed to turn a nasty mustard fabric to a gorgeous, rich chocolate"..."I don't really know how to sew but let me put out perfect pieces every time." I'm kind of excited to see how this ends, is she really a prodigy or is she Project Runway's biggest fake ever?

Sometimes, when I'm really stressed about my lack of job and job prospects and plummeting financial situation (got a letter yesterday from my credit card company...apparently I'm not allowed to make charges anymore, so add that to the list of Internship from Hell fallout), I wonder about just pulling out another student loan and going to grad school for either fashion design or library/information science...things are going to get worse before they get better anyway, so why not pretend to have a little freedom? I mean, if I did the online course for library/information science, I could still substitute during the day and make a little cash...I don't know. I don't know. I don't know what to do. Anyway, at this point I'd have to wait until the spring semester, so I guess I'll just see how this semester goes before I make a decision...anyway....

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Air Supply: The Hershey Air Delight/Aero bar is killing me, knowing it's out there so freely available and I haven't had it yet. I'll have it...in the next week, I swear I'll have it. Don't know what I'm talking about? Here (7th paragraph) or here.

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Comedy's Guardian Angel: There's a couple of celebrity deaths that get to me every once in a while, and Phil Hartman is one of them. I forget if I StumbleUpon'd this or what but it made me cry. Phil sent this letter in response to a fan that had sent a letter and tape of his stand-up in 1997, at the height of his career. The fact that Phil took the time to listen and respond like this just underlines the fact that we didn't just loose an incredible comedian, but an amazing human being as well.

Plus his analysis of amateur comedy matches that of mine and Blanc's (Point Blanc), and I can't help but feel a little proud of that. Here's the letter, and it's handwritten, to boot.

Oh, Phil, wherever you are, you're missed.

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Skunk Update: Holy crap. We've now caught 6 skunks, my neighbor's dog (Eppy) was sprayed the night before last (the night we caught the sixth skunk), and last night we saw two more. Two more. I can't even tell you how bad the back yard smells since Eppy got sprayed. It's like the stupid wilderness out here.

My mother taped a car freshener to the wall of our porch.

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I Blame Jesse Eisenberg: Whoever put games on Facebook was an evil genius. And you know who the evilest of those geniuses is? Zynga. Zynga Games actually hired a behavioral psychologist to ensure their games are addicting. And not like as a consultant, I mean they have a behavioral psychologist on staff. Time Magazine did an article on it here. Farmville, Cafe World, FrontierVille? Designed to be addicting and they produce their own publicity as gamers need to ask their friends to send them "items" a hundred times a day in order to advance in the game-- that or pay cash to buy those "items". Actual cash.

Evil. I wasn't kidding.

But, believe it or not, there are games on Facebook that don't require the harassment of everyone you know in order to progress in the game. My favorite is The Secret Plant Society, a farming puzzle game where you don't need friends. Seriously. You don't have to have a single friend and you can play the exact same game as those people with a million friends playing. The good news is that it's not annoying. The bad news is that since it doesn't generate ridiculous amounts of crap all over people's newsfeeds it doesn't get the attention it deserves. Really, give it a try.

Also, friend me! Plum Jo now has a Facebook account, and you can bet she plays The Secret Plant Society. Sooner or later I'll come up with perks for Facebook friends because you'll totally deserve them.

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Catinca Untaru: First off, how awesome is that name? Catinca Untaru. Anyway, if you haven't seen The Fall you absolutely should for the incredible cinematography, the absolutely gorgeous scenery (and I'm not just talking about Lee Pace, who couldn't possibly be more adorable), and for Catinca Untaru.

There has never been a performance like hers in the history of cinema. She was nine years old during filming and she delivers the most natural characterization...ever. She makes Gary Oldman look like a ham and Tom Hanks a scenery chewer.

If her performance is so great, you say, why wasn't she nominated for an Oscar? I'll tell you why. She's Romanian. A film's producer fills out the forms that get a film recognized by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, who then send the producer's...let's call them nominations, to the members of the appropriate branch of the Academy who then vote on whether or not the producer's nominees are actually nominated.

Here's where Catinca's nationality comes into play. How many Hollywood roles can you think of that call for a young girl with a Romanian accent?

Exactly.

So the producers don't want to give her the free publicity of an Oscar nom because, really, what could she do with it? Better to give it to an actress they may be able to use again and therefore use the "Academy Award Nominee/Winner" title where they can get some mileage out of it.

Which is sad, because if anyone deserves it, it was her.

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Speaking of movies, Blanc's got a movie review theory that's just genius. To paraphrase, why not have different critics per genre? An Oscar bait sucker isn't going to like the latest superhero movie, and the two really shouldn't be judged by the same criteria. Read the awesomeness here.

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Upcoming Posts: I will get the FC analysis up at some point...I will. And a review of Philippa Gregory's The Queen's Fool, and the baked egg recipe because I have to share the deliciousness. The world deserves to know how to get the tasty.

Have a beautiful week, dolls.

Harry Potter and the Stomachache from Hell

Update on the Great Job Project: haven't heard back from anyone but applied to a fucking fantastic job with the state so keep your fingers crossed for me. 


My stomach is killing me. I think I was right with my initial thought of endometriosis as the pain resurfaced again during ovulation and my stomach is still freaking gigantic. How gigantic? My waist is generally 32". It's now almost 40". The new pain pills, dicyclomine (generic Bentyl), are doing nothing. I wish I could talk to my regular doctor, but he's out of my insurance network now and I can't see him until my insurance changes from either my father getting a promotion or I get the fantastic job with the state. 


I wish I hadn't taken The Internship from Hell...there'd still be cash in my checking account and room on my credit card. All I have right now is my box of change and that's only half full, and barely enough to even go to the movies. 


I still haven't seen Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II yet and it's killlling me, even though I know what's going to happen and I know I'm going to cry my eyes out. I cry all the way through the end of the 6th book to the end of the 7th-- it all just slays me. 


Interesting story, actually, I never wanted to read the HP books. In fact, when they were spending so much time at the top of the Bestseller list my parents would ask me repeatedly if I wanted them to get them for me because everybody liked them so much, and I said no, I just wasn't interested. 


Granted, I was 10 at the time and on the precocious side and was reading Little Women and Gone with the Wind, or The Secret Garden AND I was truly obsessed with the Anne of Green Gables series- I honestly had no interest. 


Then in 7th grade my reading teacher said we'd be reading HP and the Sorcerer's Stone and I didn't really care until we actually started reading it- one chapter in and I was hooked. Then some parents complained and they took the books away so I made my parents go out and buy them for me. 


I live in a very Catholic area, though, so that could have something to do with it. 


Figured out how to set Georgia as my default font- what what! I'm getting all computer literate and stuff. 


I think my mother is making my favorite dinner- fettuccine Alfredo- for dinner. Nice of her, considering I'm not supposed to be having lactose. 


Oh, well. At least with endometriosis I can enjoy lactose while dealing with the crippling pain. 


Back to HP- I read Emma Watson has been cast in Guillermo Del Toro's retelling of Beauty and the Beast (here). Is it too early to get excited? Pan's Labyrinth is one of the best movies ever made- can you imagine what he'd do with Beauty and the Beast? I'm stoked. 


I've had this brutal headache all day...I'm going to go lay down until my mother tries to murder me with cheese. 


Edit (7:32 pm): I was right- we had fettuccine alfredo for dinner. Heavy cream, butter, and cheese. If I were lactose intolerant I'd be dying right now. I'm not lactose intolerant. It goes to show you: stomach doctors will give you a stomach diagnosis- looks like I need to go to the gyno. 


Oh, well. At least I can have milk again.