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quaesting
14 October 2009 @ 06:08 pm
Waiting on three different people to call back, for various reasons, which means this is being typed in Word because I can’t go online. I’ve cleaned my swords. I’ve finished polishing up my knife restoration project. I’ve packed all my sword supplies in a nice wooden box Matt gave me this afternoon. There’s nothing I feel like doing that I can do, right now. Was hoping for a relaxing bath, but Bridgie’s taking a nap so I have to be available to catch the phone. I’m stuck alone, unable to leave the house, or do anything that might tie up me or the phone line.

Today is not a good day. I went in this morning for my ‘therapist’ appointment at the free clinic. I was so nervous beforehand that I couldn’t eat anything, and actually gagged a little in the bathroom. Then we went in, and as near as I can tell they don’t have therapists. But if you call up looking for help with mental health, they set you up an appointment with a doctor. A medical doctor. Because the cure to all ills comes in little plastic bottles. They took my height, weight, blood pressure and pulse, and put us in a doctor’s room, with the high leather table with the strip of disposable paper on it. When the actual doctor came in, she asked what I was there for. I explained the trouble sleeping, nightmares, complete loss of appetite. She asked me if I was taking any street drugs, and seemed not to believe me when I said no and I never have. She asked if I smoke in a way that implied of course I must. She listened to my breathing extensively when I said no. She seemed confused why I was worried about my appetite when I confirmed I haven’t lost or gained weight, at least not in any amount I’ve noticed.
The real kicker dialogue of the visit was, after I explained my circumstances including unemployment: ‘So you’ve been unemployed. You should be depressed. That’s normal.’
She stood there looking at me afterward like she was waiting for me to come up with some actual problem she should give a shit about. The next worst moment was when she asked if I lived alone, Bridgie and I said we lived together. Her response was ‘You’re not lesbians, are you?’ and after we said we’ve been very exclusively with each other for nine years, that was when she ordered the blood test. She never said for what, but I suspect I’m being screened for HIV/AIDS among other things. Obviously the LGBT-friendly crap all over the entrance room is a load of bull.
She wrote me a prescription for sleeping pills, had a technician take my blood, and told me to see her again in two weeks.

If I were rich, I could pay a real therapist. If I were strung out on drugs or a physical danger to myself or others, the free clinics would probably rush to help me, or possibly even send me away to a psych ward. Instead I remain straddling the poverty line, not fucked up enough to get free help, and too poor to pay for it. In so many ways, through the whole course of my life, I remain invisible. If I ever snapped and did something violent, the world would still wonder why.
 
 
quaesting
10 October 2009 @ 02:33 am
OMFG. What am I doing still awake? I'm not sleepy at all. This is a bad trend. This morning we went to Shoney's for breakfast because the pretty girl wanted to, and I ate half my food, and then we did errands and stuff, came home and worked on my white stag mask... and it got around 3:30 or 4:00 when I realized I could barely walk around I was so shaky. It didn't really occur to me I was skipping lunch because she didn't have any, and evidently I need her to remind me of things like that. Yagh.
But I'm working on the Hallowe'en costume, and ignoring the frustration of not having a damn reason to wear it. It's coming along well. I watched Hallowe'en movies tonight and decorated the window, because when I talked to Shiri on the phone I realized how not excited about it I've been. All my life I've said this is the best holiday ever. My year revolves around it. Am I that depressed?

Why can't I sleep?
 
 
Current Mood: awakeawake
Current Music: Ziggy Stardust
 
 
quaesting
23 September 2009 @ 04:56 pm
Feeling a little better this afternoon, partly because the appointment we had this evening got moved. I also just got Squeaks back from the vet, and not only did she NOT have an abscessed tooth, but they also way overestimated the bill when they showed it to me this morning. First it looked like it was going to cost $50 more than the original 'highest' estimate, and then this afternoon when I picked her up, they told me it cost several hundred less. The vet came out and talked to me a while, and said there was major plaque and tartar and gingivitis, huge chunks, but then the teeth underneath were solid. She's got a clean bill of health and we talked about her 'geriatric senior' status, and how siamese mixes tend to live longer. She said Squeaks didn't even take anesthesia like a senior cat, and woke up feisty. The care sheet said she might have little appetite tonight and not to worry. When I let her out of the carrier, she immediately went to where her food bowl sits and demanded to be fed right the hell then and there. She's got a nice little shaved spot on her leg from the IV, but otherwise you wouldn't know she's been to the vet.

Color me relieved. To make things better, the recycling people have heard through Bridgie's dad about the finances situation, and are rushing my payment process. This is awesome of them, and more than I expected. The other bright shiny moment of the day is I got the printed copies of the coloring book today. I'll try to sort 'em all out and send off copies this weekend.

The bleh...Collapse )

Edited for cute happies. Have some Froggy photos.Collapse )

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quaesting
22 September 2009 @ 01:46 pm
So I missed wishing dragonwhishes a happy birthday, and I missed talk like a pirate day. Yargh.

So I made a coloring book, and I should be feeling good about that, but I'm just... not. I feel like I'm walking around with a big knot of stress in my stomach. I'm having insomnia compared with nightmares that cause me to wake up yelling. I'm glad for the comic book but I didn't realize I wouldn't get paid for a month, which is my fault for not asking, and now I don't have the funds for Squeaks' vet appointment tomorrow. We've been doing... a lot. Church choir and apparently we'll be helping teach the youth group and then there's the kid we'll be mentoring and then appointments of dentist and doctors and vet for both cats and I'm just... unreasonably stressed. I'm not sure I'm really busy enough to warrant being this stressed, when it comes down to it, but there's a feeling of being busy that's invading my brain at every moment, waking and apparently sleeping too.

Anyways, trying to pull my misfiring synapses together and do art, because it should be a relief to work on some other stuff now that the coloring book is done.

Arr.

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Current Mood: stressedstressed
 
 
quaesting
17 September 2009 @ 05:28 am
So if anybody is still watching here, especially RP buddies, possibly to see if I'm dead or fell off the face of the planet or something: The coloring book job ate my brain, ate my soul, devoured me alive. I just handed over the final files today, and now I'm squirming hoping I've done everything right because it's been so damn long since I did real professional graphics work. Not that commissioned art isn't professional, because it is, but it doesn't involve the people at the other end asking for specific file formats and DPI. But hopefully tomorrow I'll get to see the proofs (which I am NOT the one signing off on), and once I see that the little coil of anxieties currently making threatening twanging noises in my system will melt.

Anyways. Going to go try to catch up on RP threads, and Shiri I am seriously sorry your commission got derailed by this. The image has been sitting solid in my brain while I've been drawing soda cans and pieces of crumpled paper for the kiddies to color.

Also, copies of the coloring book will be available for any friends who ask.

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Current Mood: anxiousanxious
 
 
 
quaesting
09 September 2009 @ 10:26 am
Wheee life is one fun big merry-go-round. I've been feeling a little better, new kitten, coloring book job, life might be on an upswing. Then this weekend Squeakers lost her voice.
As anybody who's ever met my cat can attest, Squeaks without a voice is a pretty hard thing not to notice. Now she croaks, and grunts, where she normally has a varied and bizarre vocabulary which she uses to test the acoustics in every room in the house on a daily basis. This is a cat you can hold a conversation with, and you might have trouble getting a word in edgewise.
She was also making horking noises like she had a hairball, only not quite, and a couple times an hour. I checked the usual suspects like her stomach and her throat, and then dragged her to the vet, where they checked something I didn't think of. She has what is probably an abscessed tooth.
The irony is I was thinking I could maybe afford to go to that six-month check-up at the dentist, which they say they'll drop me as a client if I don't do. The potential bill for this whole thing comes to about a hundred dollars more than I get paid for the coloring book.

On the upside, I asked my parents for money, which is something I've only ever done once before, and that was when our car was about to die permanently, and they very kindly actually said yes. So! I guess I still get to/have to go to the dentist. Just wish Squeaks luck. They need to do a blood test first, which is over a hundred all by itself, to be sure there's nothing else going on and she'll probably be okay under anesthesia. They also gave us antibiotics and soft food, yesterday. She was actually eating the dry food just fine, and has been acting healthy apart from the no voice and horking, but she's more than happy to eat special wet food. The main problem is Froggy would be happy to eat it too, so we have to juggle things so she's shut up in the bathroom while Squeaks eats.

Anyway, to make a long story short (too late), we might still be breaking even here, as long as Squeaks comes through this okay. The coloring book money means dentist, and not having to spaz over the bills, and maybe we can go see that new Tim Burton flick this week. Breaking even is a major step up for us.

Crosspost with art
 
 
 
quaesting
12 August 2009 @ 08:20 am
Well, the other day we got an eml from the Reverend (that still feels weird to say, but we've done cat-sitting for her twice now) about the lady in the office having kittens she's adopting out. We went with the understanding that we might or might not get one. It's awfully soon, and Bridgie said if she burst into tears on seeing them, that means it's definitely too soon. But we went, with the empty carrier in case. Damn good thing.



Comparing this to pictures of Spider is... amazing. Even the color split down the face is the same. This was the first one they brought out, and runt of the litter. I'm a little concerned she's got two different medicines, one for her eyes (mucus-y stuff, not for wall-eye) and one for some gastrointestinal thing the whole litter had. On the other hand, the woman sent us home with those, half a bag of kitten food, and a spare toy mouse. We talked a while and she's been real careful about knowing the situations of people she's adopting them out to, which is cool. The mother is a feral rescue, a very young pale orange cat missing an eye. Apparently a bunch of the cats rescued together had major eye infections and they had to remove it. They were going to spay her too, of course, only... it was too late. It looked like most of the kittens were grey tabby, one the same coloring as mom, and then this one.

She's exhibiting a lot of Spider-like physical behaviors, too. When we were deciding about Spider, Bridgie asked me a lot of stuff about reincarnation in pets, about them coming back. The reason for this is I had a cat named Isis. She got very sick not long after I got her, and she actually pulled through when the vets thought she wouldn't, but she had worsening seizures in which she would violently attack anything and everything near her, sometimes including herself. I still have scars. This was about fifteen or more years ago. We had to have her put down after I'd had her maybe six months.
Years later I got Squeaks, and the coloring is a little different but I've come across old photos and not been sure which cat was which.

So, we've now got a wall-eyed tiny ball of fur upstairs, who is currently making a piercing racket because Bridgie had to put her in the bathroom so she can eat dinner. She's probably going to be named Frog, although we're hoping she'll grow into those eyes before they pop out of her head. She has hissed and arched at Squeaks, but Squeaks just laid down and looked at her skeptically, resigned to the whole thing. I figure that's a good sign, and maybe it being so soon, she hasn't had time to think of herself as the sole cat in the household so she's blasé about it all.

It's a good thing, but I'm a little jealous I only get a day and a half to get to know her before I get on a plane for MI.

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quaesting
06 August 2009 @ 07:00 pm
Bridgie's post.

It bugs me they never even figured out what was wrong with her.



more picturesCollapse )

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Current Mood: blankblank
 
 
quaesting
27 July 2009 @ 01:25 am
Last night... oh god. It was a night. There was some thunder earlier, and one of those periods of ten minutes of pouring rain, in which I ran out and rolled up the car windows. Came back in, wondering over whether Squeaks was out or in. When there's thunder, Squeaks usually goes straight under the bed. The rain didn't last, and there was RP and stuff, and we didn't think much of it. Then it got later, and there was more thunder, and more rain, to the point where it seemed necessary to shut down and unplug the computer. Aaand couldn't find the cat. A thorough investigation of under the bed and all over the house and there was no Squeaks, and I figured she would have come in during the gap between thunderstorms, so I was worried. Worried enough to go out in the rain and call for her... and call, and call, and wander the neighborhood. Most cats don't come when they're called, I know, but she does, very reliably. my cat is not very catlike, I know. After getting soaked down to the underwear, we came in and sat waiting out the worst of the storm. She'd been gone for probably three or four hours by then, which is really unusual, and I was imagining her running across the road in the dark and the rain and getting hit by a car. She's been hit by a car, once that we know of for sure. When the rain had let up to a light drizzle, we went out again, calling, jingling keys (she responds to the sound of my keys), circling the back of the house and checking trees, even looking under cars. By this time I was half looking for a body. At one point I went by to check the porch again, which I'd been doing regularly... and there she was. Looking like a drowned rat. She even ran off the porch into the rain again to get to me.
It took a while for her to get dry again, but I sat up with her purring and demanding my attention until after five in the morning. Woke up today with a terrible headache and I think the day is pretty much shot. That was... stressful.

Crosspost with art
 
 
Current Mood: draineddrained