I snapped at people tonight. I don't like when I do that. It's not me. Little things are setting me off, stuff that normally i would laugh at, or make some snide remark about and forget. But people's remarks would make me really angry, for the most minor reasons.
I don't feel like I am in control.
I'm going to call my doctor on Monday, if I'm awake. She told me "no side effects ... none of my patients has noticed anything!" I hate being the first.
Michael feels sorry for me, and I hate that. I am not a "poor thing", I am not to be pitied. Rather irritating. No, not irritating ... not mad at him at all, i just hate being in a position that anyone feels bad for me. That I am weak or helpless in any manner.
Brent is in jail. I figured he was, as he wasn't returning pages and I hadn't seen him around. It was inevitable. The first letter came in the mail today. I don't know how long he's in for, but knowing him and what he does, I see many more letters in my future.
Got lots of sleep, finally. Slept 'til four, in my little twin bed at my mom's, with two dogs sleeping on top of me. My mom has the most apathetic dog on the planet ... if she's not around, he's so depressed. I give him a treat, he'll take it and let it fall out of his mouth. I try to take him outside, he'll just look at me and lie down. I feel bad for the thing. He's so attached to my mom, and she leaves him all the time.
Anyway, after I finally dragged out of bed, I went to Michael's work to eat dinner and be leered at by the cooks. It's really creepy. And i hear from michael the obscene things they say about me ... he thinks it's funny ... i think it's funny too, but it's a little much.
Had an hour to kill before work ... went by TC ... tried to have fun ... talked to steph, norm, matty ... actually, i was quite entertained by some of the conversation. I just have such a short temper today, i can't deal with any stress.
Which makes me glad work is quiet.
I will go home in the morning. I will shower, change, wake Michael up. We will drive to hollywood, and i will enjoy three hours or so of intense pain. And then I will be happy. Or at least better inked.
Oh, and to quote Christine the other day (because i said i would, and because it still strikes me as funny for some reason):
"estimate, estimate, estimate - blow me!"