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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


complain, complain, complain

On Wednesday night, I saw a naked woman walking down 6th. She was taking her sweet time shuffling down the street, taking long drags off her cigarette, not a care in the world. Sometimes I think it must be nice to be that oblivious to the world around you. Without the Thorazine injection crazy part.

On Thursday night, I was in pyjamas by 8 pm and preparing to relax at home after an exhausting day spent helping a friend move. There was a knock at the front door, and it turned out to be one of Terenceís brothers dropping by. With his wife. And two kids.

On Friday night, we visited some friends who are housesitting in Topanga Canyon. We missed a turn on the PCH so the 45 minute drive turned into an hour and half schlep. The person behind the wheel was none too pleased about having to drive in the first place, and took his aggression out on the car, driving really fast and making this passenger uncomfortable. Getting home was a lot quicker, but it was 1:30 am before I hit my pillow. I vowed never to ride with him again.

Saturday morning, I was surprisingly on time for class and looking forward to sleepwalking through most of it. I was unable to do so because there were only two of us in attendance. I came home afterwards, collapsed into bed and slept for 4 hours.

When it rains, it pours. Nothing on the social calendar for weeks, then boom! A solid week of obligations and invitations. Itís fun, yes, but I am out of practice.

And the work! My god, the work. Iíve got to design an ad, design 2 retreat flyers, schedule a press check, finish the mechanicals for 3 book covers, and help a friend with her husbandís resume. Iím sure thereís more, and that I ought to make a more comprehensive list, but I am so fried. And I leave for New York in a week! Ay yaaaaa.

I went to the doctorís on Friday to give blood (for the asthma study Iím participating in.) The researcher said that the last sample I donated appeared low in calcium and was coagulating too quickly, and so the lab couldnít subject it to testing. I asked him again about my chest pain, and he fetched one of the physicians who diagnosed me with too much acid in my stomach. He thinks that the acid is travelling up my esophagus and causing discomfort. He gave me some sample pills that are supposed to reduce the acid and return my stomach to normal. My symptoms should disappear in 10 days; if they donít, I have to call the office.

I really must be getting old. This entry was all about people cutting in on my sleep time and gastric problems. I am going to be one ornery old lady.

9:59 a.m. - 2003-06-29



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