Entries Tagged 'neurosis' ↓

Things went great.  The only part that truly hurt was hearing the bill.  However, feeling better will be worth it.  I’m too tired for a healthcare rant.

I loved my nurse today.  Even if she insisted I was too young to have kids.

The last six weeks were aggravating, being told that things looked alright by the test results, but still having symptoms.  The surgeon told my mom that it very scarred, so all the pain and symptoms were definitely not all in my head (as I began to worry after hearing the drumroll before the total).

Found a sitter? Yes, two

Have a ride? Yes

Food for the family? Taken care of

I guess I’m ready.  Do not get worried if I don’t check in on Wednesday or Thursday.  There, look at my ego grow, assuming those of you who wander by are that invested in my well being.  There is an Invader Zim cartoon where Zim says “More organs means more human.”  I suppose by Wednesday afternoon, I’ll be a little less human.

Wait, I just thought of something.  I am completely out of books; this will not do.  No, not at all.  Am I the only one who is embarrassed to go back to the library after amassing a fee?  As if somehow I am unworthy to return to the library for misplacing a book for a week.  It’s probably a symptom of my own twisted neurosis, but I build all of these little incidents into these overwhelming tasks and put them off.  Eventually when I get around to finding the courage, time, and energy I wonder how I could have built it into such an overwhelming task.

I hope my fear of interviewing is like this.  I sent out a press release to the local morning shows.  Maybe something will come of it, maybe nothing will.  It’d be nice if we could promote Home Ec in that manner.

I believe it is time for me to begin making an effort to pay more attention to my actions.  I’ve grown quite careless in recent weeks and I am not sure when it began.  Each time I prepare a meal, I recreate the scene in The Sixth Sense where the cupboard doors and drawers open each time the mother turns around.  Sure it’s a mostly harmless quirk, but it may be a symptom of an underlying issue.

I wonder if I’m that inattentive while cooking, how am I doing while driving?  Don’t answer that.

I finally got around to making an appointment for something that has been bothering me for some time.

Tests follow, including an ultrasound (has nothing to do with either babies or the equipment involved, thank you very much.)

My doctor called while we were out early this afternoon. We’ve been seeing him for almost four years. Anytime anyone in the family has had any kind of test, it’s been the nurses who have called.

Maybe she’s on vacation.

Right?

** Update**  He was calling to let me know we’ll be scheduling more tests to rule out an ulcer before we discuss yanking any organs.

I squealed like a little girl this morning.

There are times and places I expect bugs: window sills, porches, under trees and logs, etc.

I do not expect them to fall out of the laundry as I’m transferring clothes from the washer to the dryer.  The evil thing leapt out of the shirt I had in my hand, waved at me (or maybe gave me the bird, I don’t speak spider), and ran under the washer.

The worst part is knowing that big honker is still alive; that’s one tough mother.  Have you seen the spin cycle on an HE washer?

It’s the stuff of my childhood, gasping for breath and pouring sweat, unable to scream as I struggle toward consciousness.  I’ve always been prone to nightmares, they peaked in late adolescence fading as I slowly trudged toward adulthood.

They have returned as my body downshifts from carrying a child and the hormonal nightmare wreaks havoc on my subconscious.  Dark entities wait in my sleep.  In the light of day, they are nothing more than an anecdotal “I had a bad dream.”  But, in the witching hour they are a force to be reckoned with as I wait for dawn.

This too shall pass.

I often mull over post ideas for a few days, allowing them to ripen or die on the vine.  I have one rolling around on the concept of splurging at little or no cost.  One of my personal favorites is to tuck the monkeys in bed and soak in the tub accompanied by a good book, a few squares of dark chocolate, and something icy cold to drink.

A blogger buddy of mine probably just had a neurosis based coronary at the thought.  I wonder if the knowledge that the actual toilet is in a water closet will revive her?

I hate how no one answers their phone anymore. I feel like a pest when there is only voicemail to speak to. I wonder if the other person is screening their calls, putting off returning mine until the last minute, rolling their eyes when they see my number pop up.

Insecure?

You bet.