THAT'S what being away from my sister for five years does to me.
It seems like yesterday when Joe dragged me to our new lifestyle. The fingernail gouges I left in the asphalt in Indiana are still there.
But I've adjusted. Kinda. Sorta. I just wouldn't give me a hand grenade and put me on a busload of nuns. What's black and white and
Yeah. I got depressed today.
I had an appointment tomorrow with the Doktor to get my prescriptions refilled and found out she is OUT OF THE COUNTRY for a month. Hindu festivals and all that, and she has no one covering for her. I asked them what I'm supposed to do if/when I start having drug withdrawals. Her office told me to go to the ER.
Wouldn't THAT look good on my record. Especially when I renew my gun permit: "Presented herself to the ER due to drug withdrawal symptoms".
Where the hell is Shaniqua and Tyrone when you need them? Not in OUR alley.
But on a brighter note, the swelling in my face has lessened. My fake tooth almost feels like my own, and Tylenol is NOT the miracle pain killer that Floridian doktors say it is.
So, after steam cleaning the floors today, doing laundry and making chili, I decided to lock myself in my sewing room and make something useful - like a pin cushion.
Especially after I spilled all my straight pins last night and ended up with one stuck in my upper thigh: don't ask.
WHAT IS CUTER THAN A LITTLE BALL JAR?
A LITTLE BALL JAR THAT HOLDS BUTTONS,
AND A TAPE MEASURE,
AND A HOME MADE PINCUSHION ON TOP....
CUZ I DIDN'T LIKE SITTING ON A STRAIGHT PIN.