My pro-bono personal coach asked me what I am going to do to celebrate.  Of course, the first thought in my mind was, “Uh, I shoulda had a job months ago if I weren’t such a lazy piece of crap, so do I really deserve to celebrate?” but I refrained from saying this knowing it would lead to nowhere.  So, I have all these Best Buy gift certificates from 15 years of points on a credit card that I never redeemed.  I had picked out three things from Best Buy that I wanted, and she said to go for it.  I feel guilty using them, even though it’s “free money”.  I can’t trade them for anything, and they are gift cards.  But I feel guilty nonetheless, because money is so tight and I really can’t afford luxuries.  And it’s a lot of money in gift cards.

Last night I slept.  I mean, the kind where, once you finally fall asleep, the next thing you know, it’s morning.  Although I do remember my dream.  It had to do with selling my grandmother’s ring to make ends meet (I have not done this, yet, and don’t want to), and some big guy who was after me for gambling debts.  I don’t gamble, but, whatever.

I am going home tomorrow.  I am leaving the fantastic, beautiful and fun city of Llano and heading back to Dallas.  Should all go well, I will start my new job next week.  It’s 100% travel, like usual, so I need to be close to D/FW.  Back to tin can hell.  But I am not complaining.  It’s a job, it puts food on the table, and it keeps me from having to liquidate all of my things, which I was looking at having to do.  Thank you god for that.

In the interim, I need to find a solution for my dogs.  When  I was a consultant, I made enough money to put them with my vet each week.  They stay at her house, sleep in her bed, etc.  But this is an on-staff position, so I won’t be making as much money.  Which means that the cost to keep them with my vet will be prohibitive.  So I am going to try my best to act like a jew and negotiate.  She’s a toughie; I doubt I will make any progress.  :-)

So, if anyone is interested in two beautiful pain-in-the-ass brother Lhasa Apsos, and is willing to keep them together, give them lots of love and kisses all day long, lots of hoofies, lots of toys, and let them sleep on the pillows in your bed, let me know.  High maintenance is an understatement.

My dad (and I got permission on this one to give him a hard time) has quite the idea when it comes to decorating. Apparently, all you need is one extra sheet and a couple of binder clips.

For years, I thought that my dad was decorating on the fly, intending to go with something more permanent later on. After nine or ten years of this, though, I have finally realized that this IS the real deal.

At least he doesn’t have tin foil on the windows.

Some of you know that I am bipolar.  I have been diagnosed and medicated for twenty years.  I am extremely diligent about my disease, and I know as much, if not more, than most doctors.  Anyhoo, I wanted to try to quit smoking, so my doc and I decided that I would try Chantix.  We both agreed that if I experienced any mania (a relatively common side effect for bipolars who take it), I would immediately quit taking it and call him.

Well, the mania hit me so quickly that I was so out of it I didn’t even think to make the connection, stop the chantix, or call the doc.  Until things got really bad.  I didn’t know WHAT was going on, since I am usually very stable.  I told the doc that I wanted to go back into the hospital, because my medication had stopped working (that was my interpretation).  Neither of us made the connection.  We are idiots.

So back in early June, I went back to the hospital (yes, I have been in the hospital a lot over the years).  Since I have been on every medication known to man for my bipolar disorder, and every other psychiatric medication in existence, we were stuck as to what to do.  I really am medication resistant.  So, I decided to do ECT.  After coming off of my Lamictal (which is a bitch, because it takes 8 weeks to get back up on it), I had three ECT sessions.  I was in the hospital for nine days.

I lost my short term memory, and my brain was a sieve for the next week.  This is normal.  I was supposed to continue with ECT three times a week for three more weeks, but I couldn’t get the help that I needed to get to the hospital at that god-awful hour of the morning, so I stopped.

I live alone, so having a swiss-cheese brain wasn’t working out too well.  On top of that, I was off my Lamictal (mood stabilizer) so I was swinging from depressed to manic twice a day.  Then I just got manic.  It was too much for me to handle.  I had no idea what was going on, what had happened the last two months, and what I was doing on a daily basis, plus I was manic, and alone.  NOT a good combination.

On top of that, my money has run out, and I had no job prospects.  That wasn’t helping the mania either, because I was facing living in my car.  So I packed up the car and the dogs, and headed down to my Dad’s in the town “where people go to die but don’t”.

I really needed to be around someone who could ground me.  After a few days, my memory came back, and the holes in my head plugged up.  I am moving back up on my Lamictal, and I am feeling better with fewer mood swings.  I haven’t had any in awhile now.  I have been at my dad’s for a little over a week, and am feeling a lot better.

Now I am working with my friend who is also a professional and life coach (she is helping me pro bono) to network and get a job.  Then, my car went on the fritz.  So, I spent almost $3000 to have it fixed, which was money I didn’t have, and was facing about $3000 to move and store my shit (cuz it looks like I am going to be moving in with my dad).

My depression has been really bad, but it’s situational.  It has to do with feeling worthless because I don’t have a job, and my whole self-worth is tied up in my career.  I also started doing my therapy (well, the tools I have been given over twenty years of therapy), which is making me deal with my feelings of worthlessness and crap, which hasn’t been helping all that much, so my anxiety is getting bad.  Again, situational.

But, I am getting out of the house more, and I am working outside doing stuff in the yard.  This is a huge improvement over the last year.  Before, I wouldn’t leave the house unless I HAD to or it was night time.

On Monday, I will hear back from a very large company to see if they are going to hire me.  Please cross your fingers that they do, because I really need the money.  I also need it for my self-esteem.  If they don’t hire me, I have to liquidate everything I own and move to my dad’s and start my life over.  Not the end of the world, but I don’t do change very well, and the thought of having to liquidate all my “assets”, if you could call them that, is frightening and depressing to say the least.

Now, please understand that I know that I got myself into this position.  I am not whining or complaining.  I just wanted to let you know why I haven’t been around.  Hospital, swiss-cheese brain and mania and depression at the same time (called a mixed episode) is nothing to fuck around with.

So there you go.  There’s my deep, dark secret.

There were many things that needed to be done; ringtone, adding names and numbers, figuring out how to make a call, etc.  Oh, and learning how to send a text message.  My father is now enamored with text messaging.

Now, my father is not cell-phone inept.  He has used Palm and Blackberry for a number of years.  He’s a lawyer.  He needs the stuff that BB and Palm have to offer.  Most recently, he used a Blackberry, so finding things on the Palm was a bit different.

Of course, the ten page user guide that came with the Palm Centro did not prove to be much use.  It didn’t even have an explanation of how to set up a standard ringtone.  So off to the rescue I come, attempting to assist in the “setup”.  After perusing the AT&T wireless site, I find what we are looking for.  Goody.  Ringtones set.  Dad happy.  Life is good.

Phase I: Set up voice mail password

The next step is to set up voice mail.  I am in the office; dad is in his ham radio area.  I have no idea that “voice-mail-gate” was about to ensue.  From over CNN Headline news and my playing online, I hear yelling coming from the other room.  My first inclination is to ignore it and see if it stops.  Usually, that works.  However, after two minutes of yelling, I decide to go into the other room to see what was the matter.

I find my father yelling at the cell phone.  After attempting to figure out what the problem was, I realize he is trying to set up voice mail.  At this point, we are just trying to set up the password.  The “helpful” automated woman on the other side of the phone was being a complete bitch while he was trying to enter a four digit password and press pound.  She was not happy that it was taking so long to enter the four digits.  After watching Dad do the same thing several times, I take the phone away from him and take it to the office, where we have a better signal.  We are, after all, in a very small town where people go to die.

The automated bitch apparently has some personal issues.  She was not programmed to be patient at all.  Even for the fastest of us (like myself) when it comes to cell phones.  After trying twice, I finally got the password in.

Phase II: Record Name

This was fun.  The automated bitch liked the recording of my dad’s name, but she apparently did not like us pressing the pound key AT ALL.  She indicated that it was an invalid entry.  Typical.  Just like a woman. So we decide to chuck it and just set it to use his number for his voice mail.  Then, we go back in to voice mail as if we were checking messages for the first time.  This time, we go to personal greetings, and set up his voice mail with his name; no problem.

Fucking bitch.  Never can satisfy an automated woman.  Let this be a lesson to you men who want a robotic woman to “do whatever you tell them to do”.  They are only as good as you program them.

So now, we finally have the phone set up the way it needs to be set up.  The only thing left to do is to sync the contacts with a program that is proprietary for lawyers.  I can’t wait for that.  That will probably end up with both of us in the hospital.

I have decided that, in two years, it is going to be time to invest in a Jitterbug.  In fact, with all the baby boomers retiring soon, I recommend purchasing stock in the company if you can.

As soon as I feel better, I will be posting more.  I just can’t think of anything funny to say….