Prince of Tides

just got home from a few days at my sister’s place. it was nice watching Z. and i got to cut her grass (riding mower + portable cd player + sunshine = me being able to ignore the world and myself because the noise is too loud to let anything else in.) and today we went for a quick dip in her pool. so. fun. it was nice to spend time with her without her tightwad husband around.

the drive to and home was okay, since my car is running better.

we met at an outlet mall that’s about halfway btwn us and she bought me 2 pairs of jeans and a pair of shorts (gap) and a pair of skechers. the sandals are funky and fun, i think. i detest feet. and these are sandals, yet you can see barely any foot.

hooray for functional shoes. and, they were on sale. else i wouldn’t’ve gotten them.

i stopped at wally world on my way home just now to get cat litter and light bulbs and envelopes and bread. and i wanted to get the new Simple Plan cd, since I’m in love with every song of theirs I’ve ever heard, and since I haven’t bought a cd in a long, long time, and i’m grumpy and not at peace with the world and would not mind a bit if a meteor landed on my apt right now….but. they didn’t HAVE the album I wanted. So. Ok. I thought, I’ll get DMB‘s Under the Table and Dreaming since it was one of my top 3 favourite albums EVER and I seemed to have lost it somewhere. Which makes me double mad because not only was it my favourite album, it was also a copy given to me by G, so it had sentimental value as well as entertainment value. They don’t have ANY dmb, except the newest one. But I’d get like, live at the red rock or an older one before I’d get the newest one. So. *grrr* So. I was ticked off and decided to buy a dvd instead. a cheap 7.50 one. Tomb Raider. *sigh* P’raps I’ll find some solace in Angelina.

So. I came home to a MESSY apt, which I HATE. The only good thing is that the snake finally pooped. I was getting worried, as it hadn’t done so since I acquired it. After cleaning that up I finished unloading my bags and groceries and was going to sit in front of the fan and watch Angelina kick some ass. And THEN I remembered that I meant to pick my meds up on the way back in to town since I stupidly -forgot- to pick them up on the way out of town, as i intended to do. AND I forgot that I had wanted to get a paper cutter while near Staples.

So now I have to drag my ass back OUT.

I just wanna fucking curl up in bed and stay there.

Oh. And, NTS. Don’t watch movies that will exacerbate your already SHITASS mood, no matter how much you ‘like’ them.

AND. My sister has a rifle. Just sitting in the corner of her bedroom. With all the little ammunition boxes next to the nightstand. WTF. I yelled at her hardcore about that. I don’t care if her baby is only 10 months old. All it takes is ONE accident and he’s gone FOREVER. I also told her I was going to babyproof her home next time I went over. I think she was getting aggravated at me cuz I kept pointing out things she needed to do, like either MOVE the cleaning supplies out from under the kitchen sink or LOCK the cabinet. And get locks for the other cabinets as well. “Shawn doesn’t want to drill holes in them…” Ok. First of all. The holes aren’t noticable from the outside. Besides which. Isn’t your child’s safety MORE IMPORTANT???? And second of all, then get some fucking latches that don’t require holes. Stop leaving things like buttons and lipstick containers and purses full of random stuff on the floor and/or on the end tables where baby can get them. KEEP THE DOOR TO THE STAIRS CLOSED. And for fuck’s sake. Put a gate on the stairs to the POOL. (This one might actually get done, as the insurance company sent them a letter saying that their homeowner’s insurance would be dropped in 2 weeks if a locked gate wasn’t put on the pool. GOOD.)

All the little shit was making me really angry because I don’t want to tell her how to parent. But I don’t want the kid choking on things, pulling things over on himself, getting in to dangerous things….Yes. Accidents happen. But dammit. At least try to prevent the ones that you have control over.

And H is like “Well, he’s never even out of our sight…” Ok. Fine. But all it takes is five seconds for him to scoot away. Another 10 til you notice he’s gone. Another 20 until you find him. A lot of things can happen in half of a minute.

They worked so damn hard to get that little boy. It irks me how ignorant they’re being. Cuz I’ll mention these things to H and she’ll be like “yeah, i know” in that voice that means “stop badgering already. i might get around to it eventually”

whatever. whatthefuckever.

*********edit***********
of course, the pharmacy is closed now. after going in and finding that out, i just got back in my car and stared at the brick wall for a few minutes, trying to decide if it was worth it. except i don’t know what either “it” actually -is-.

i went to the dr on thursday. she wants me to see a pdoc. she’s pretty much exhausted her comfort-level prescription drugs with me (she’s not comfortable prescribing anything more hardcore than she already has.) j wants me to see one too. the problem here is that *I* don’t want to see one. Nor do I think I’d be capable. The thought of doing so makes me excessively anxious the second I think about it.

anyways. i told her i’d think about it. she up-ed my wellbutrin (which I didn’t fucking pick up.) and gave me a handful of Lunesta samples.

the other thing about the pdoc is. i don’t want to be on something that my pcp isn’t *comfortable* prescribing. i have a hard enough frigging time with the things that i have. not that i’ve tried, but most of them require a whole helluvalot to od on them. :p (hey, what can i say. i enjoy reading the package inserts.)

yeah. i prolly shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like that i think.