Wheeeeee!

This fucking medicinal rollercoaster ride is really beginning to piss me off. Actually, it's just annoying me because I'm told I'm a bit of a control freak and I guess - a hormonal tornado (on so many levels).

I bent down this morning to get the cat bowls for the lion pride and lost my balance. Just so happens that I keep the cat bowls next to the kitchen sink. Thank God the edge of the counter was there to break my fall to the floor! Whew. With this knot on my forehead, I feel like a godamn gargoyle.

The cats were laughing their asses off, though. It's 4 AM and I'm staggering around the kitchen like a weeble, seeing stars, and they think it's Comedy Central.

Fucking ingrates.

My chiropractor did some witch doctor shit yesterday that I have faith will help me more than those fucking morons at the doctor/doctor. At least I don't have much choice right now. Whatever the Moron-Medics have done to me, I think they should bill the fucking cats since they're the ones who apparently get the most pleasure watching me fall down like a 10-month old, diaper-wearing, baby.

The insomnia was the first few days, now I'm dead. I think I went to bed just after sunfall last night, and I couldn't drag my ass out of the bed at 7 AM. It's about that time in the evening, sunfall is in 30 minutes, and me thinks, down goes the clown. At least I moved the cat dishes away from the sink.

Speaking of that, AmberGrace has finally figured out that even though she thinks she's smarter than me, I outweigh her ten-fold, and sheer brute force with my irritabilty levels, will prove that I walk on two legs and have a bigger brain - maybe a very, cloudy brain, but a bigger brain, nonetheless.

And just to test my health issue - I thought Anna escaped today and a dog had eaten her (very long story), and my work has decided that water sometimes appears to be under the bridge... especially when you're the one that called the truce, but it may not actually be there. Me thinks that at the very least - somebody, or somebodies, may have made a very expensive, tactally-deficient error. Call it a moral decision on my part. I love that. I now wonder why I had Mephistophicles on my desktop for so long.

Oh, and Daddy's advice was "you'll get used to the drugs". Lovely, thanks to this little potion the Moron-Medics have me on, I feel like I'm having my 98th birthday, not my 38th birthday.