Where Gaynip has a Stressful Day

Yesterday.  It was a shit storm book-ended with some really nice quality time with Cortejo (and later with Miss Lydia).

I left work and forgot my cellphone, and didn’t realize until I was at my specialist’s office when I went to text someone to kill a bit of time.  I was stricken when it wasn’t in my purse and called the office to check and see if I’d left it behind.  I had.  Phew.  I remember thinking “No big deal.  I have the truck which is far more relaible than my car.”  Oh how I would come to eat those words (I’ll get to that later).

My specialist is most infuriating.  Having Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome is a lifelong problem and I will never get better, it will never go away.  I can only do things to lessen it and make it easier to deal with.  I asked him how long I could take the melatonin for because the bottle says 2 weeks or 4 weeks if you consult a physician.  He says to me, “I don’t know.  I don’t want to be flippant but I honestly don’t.”  I guess there aren’t a lot of studies on it, on what it does when used long term, or if there are side effects.  He prescribed me 10mg, but there are debates on how much is too much or too little.  10 would be the high end and he gave me that much so I wouldn’t come back and say “It’s not working”.  Except I came back and said, “It seems to be working” and he seemed caught between surprise and disinterest.  His suggestion for how long to keep taking it was “Try every other day”.  He then basically went on to say if I would just take the pills (for narcoleptics) then I would be able to stay awake.  Yeah, but I don’t want to take pills that trick my body.  It’s not a fix.  It’s just hiding the problem.

Back out to the truck, and it won’t start.  Actually, it starts then stalls.  Put it in gear, it stalls.  Take your foot off the gas, it stalls.  I have no phone.  Dammit.  Ah, but there is a nice guy in a wheel chair who gives me his phone.  I make a few quick calls and McAvoy and Red are on their way.  As I’m waiting, I see a guy and ask him if he’s got jumper cables.  He doesn’t but asks what the problem.  He gets under the hood and fixes it up.  Throttle cable.  Ugh.

I jump into the truck and speed off to my supper with Pezchica and got stuck in traffic.  As it turns out I just missed her by mere minutes.  Got my eye brows done (yay) and had something to eat because I was crashy. Ended up stuck in traffic on the way back…damn  hockey.

Lydia asked Cortejo and I if we wanted to be part of a “secret” club just for girls.  We agreed.  “It’s a club for Justin Beaver.”  Neither of us had any idea who or what Justin Beaver was.  I’m not sure what tipped me off but as Lydia was pulling me to her room for story time I clued in.  “Ooooh.  Justin BIEBER!”  Cortejo was completely at a loss for who this might be.  I told Lydia, “I don’t want to be in a Justin Bieber club.  Justin Beaver, yes…Justin Bieber no.”  Lydia thinks on this and says, “What about Alex Beaver?”  Completely made up, non-existent but still better than Justin Bieber.

For Cortejo, this is JB…all the rage with the teenyboppers…16 year old Canadian singing “sensation”:

I feel like I’ve missed a piece of my youth that my friends and I didn’t have dance-off’s in bowling alleys.  Kids today have no idea how lucky they are.

Cortejo took good care of me, fed me a yummy sandwich (pumpkin butter looks like baby poo but tastes good) and made sure I had cold water (helps keep me awake while driving) for my trip home.  I was feeling destressed and soothed but after I left the city I began to worry.  No phone.  Problematic vehicle.  Late.

Suffice it to say the stress did a number on me and I threw up.  I’m 100% positive it wasn’t sick (no prelude or upset stomach afterward).  Funny because I’ve been way more stressed out than that before, but I’ve never been sick.  Something new, something alarming.

I’m going to go home and have a nap.  [Shrug]  I guess if it’s never going to get better, why not?  So tired.  No nap yesterday, got home 10pm, in bed by 10:30 and up again at 4.  It has caught up with me.  What a wild life I do lead.

If  I’m asleep bad things can’t happen, right?

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