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2007 WRAP-UP (Very belated!) This one's long and possibly in
18 years ago
For me, 2007 was easily the most difficult, most challenging year since 2003, the year my mother died of multiple sclerosis (MS). I believe I emerged a stronger, more resilient person than before, but it came at a price. Because I had so many pressing real-life issues to contend with, my creative output took a large dip and I essentially shelved my beloved novel project indefinitely. I had to salvage my dysfunctional relationship with Kathy, and contend with some very serious money issues. Also, big rifts at work between employees made life that more challenging, even as I tried to keep the whole union issue at arm's length while quietly sticking to my own agenda (which was to be the best co-worker, leader and follower as I could possibly be). I could not sustain creative energy for protracted lengths of time, as I had done so in the past, and people were constantly wondering why my art output had dropped so much, and why I still hadn't gotten my first novel published.
(Well, for those of you who doubt I ever wrote a novel in the first place, here is a link for you: http://www.elftown.com/_pauly'.....20book%20stuff Also, why in the world why I try to be delusional about something like this? Honestly. I don't publish the actual novel online because (1.) I am protecting my copyright and my ideas, many of which are unique, (2.) Traditional publishers are generally adverse to publishing things that had have previously been published online. This is why you will see a lot of experimental/humorous/dragonish stuff online, but you will not see my more "serious" novel, which by the way has plenty of experimental/humorous/dragonish stuff!)
Anyhow, 2007 was generally one continuous struggle for me. It started with my being turned down for promotion to "Full" Floor Supervisor at work, which in retrospect was a wise decision, since in the year since I've gained a lot of experience and know-how I simply did not have back then. I am sort of prone to being sluggish in the winter months, and this on top of it made me slow down for a while, and though I won't go so far to say I was depressed, I definitely felt down enough to really not do too much for a while.
Things generally got worse on the home front when Kathy started showing the signs she was no longer seeing her doctor for treatment, or at least not at often as she used to. Furthermore, she was wreaking havoc on her body. After ballooning out to disgusting proportions in 2006, she dropped a lot of weight---which was certainly a good thing, I thought, until I saw she was eating very poorly again. She would frequently try to hide the evidence from me. I'd follow an ant trail under the couch and find lots of sugary, sticky candy wrappers. I'd go to bed and find candy wrappers in the pillow case. Patrick, our eight year old son, told me she was doing stuff like this frequently, even over Patrick's objections. Money started mysteriously disappearing from my wallet without explanation---I took Kathy's assertion she was paying the bills. She kept on telling me she was paying the bills and such, but as it turned out she was not paying them at all. The crippling blow came when I stumbled across a pile of concealed mail, which included a heat shutoff notice. There was just too much money to be owed (money that Kathy was not paying!) so we went from April to September with no heat at all. When we wanted to get clean, we heated up water on the stove or microwaved it, and sponge-bathed. All the while Kathy continued to do her car-delivery paper route, which I pleaded with her to discontinue because it would probably wind up destroying the car, as these kind of jobs are notorious for doing. I just wanted her to get a part-time "real" job that would minimize the wear and tear on the car. Simple enough, yes? She'd give me the run-around but I had a disconcerting sense she was not looking at all. She became very passive, and neglected both herself, and---sometimes, but frequent enough to notice----Patrick. She tended to yell at him a lot, to get whiny, to not be persuasive at all. I very often had to intervene to get Patrick to listen to her, and to get Kathy to stop being so unreasonably shrill and unreasonably demanding. Sometimes I sensed Kathy didn't even want to be a parent, much less care.
The underlying problems of our struggling relationship became unmistakable around the time of my brother's marriage, where I was supposed to be part of his party but was not. A good deal of this is my fault. E-mails to me become lost in the "Bulk" folder, and also frankly I was at a low ebb. Procrastination became rampant. Kathy did not relay several crucial letters and telephone messages to me, often erasing those messages. (This same situation also had the IRS auditing me and garnishing my wages, starting around that time.) So even though we did go to the wedding, for me it was a very awkward experience because I was the best man and had to bail out on short notice. Until I once again work during the day and sleep at night, I'm never going to go the wedding-party route for anyone. The conflicts of hours and shifts just makes everything screwed up, to put it very mildly. However, with these crazy hours I get to see my son before he goes to school, and again before I go to work. So that makes it all worthwhile, hardships and all!
I insisted Kathy get a second paper route, until she actually got a permanent part-time job. Things were becoming critical. At the same time her friend Molli came home from an institution and got married at home, with Kathy and myself being her witnesses. This deserves a back-story because what happened after that really messed up whatever remaining happiness and tranquility we had.
Molli used to live next door to us when we lived in a one-room apartment, from about 1998 to late 2003 when we belatedly moved to the bigger apartment. (The move itself came during a major low point of our relationship, but I won't get into that here.) Molli was a single mother, with two then three children by different fathers who all screwed her very badly, being deadbeat pricks who did not pay child support. Despite that, Molli was (and is) a very good person, but after some time she began cracking under the strains. She wanted and NEEDED a father figure to her children. She tried seducing me shortly after we moved into the two-room apartment. Since I was very near to looking for a divorce lawyer, it almost happened one day, just after Christmas when I just wanted to drop by and say "hi". she made moves on me that I could barely resist. My hormones spun out of control. Though we were both clothed, I had Molli up against the wall, her bare legs wrapped tightly around me. And then we came to our senses, and that's as far as it got. I couldn't use Kathy's personal struggles as an excuse to cheat on her. In any event, within a few weeks I told Kathy everything about what happened, once things were on the mend in our relationship. And despite that betrayal, Kathy continued being her friend, though I tried as much as possible to distance myself from Molli---my hormones require a very strong will to keep under control, once tantalized. Were I still single, I think I'd have way more than one child right now . . . but I digress. Molli began collapsing under the strain of her very stressful life. Already a very bad chainsmoker, Molli began abusing painkillers, and her doctor was either irresponsible or ignorant because she had to go to the emergency room. Molli stopped working around that time, entirely supported by state welfare programs and child support payments. Her grown daughter abandoned her in her time of need. The state became aware of the situation, and within a year both minor-aged children were taken away from her and put into foster care. The final straw happened around Thanksgiving 2005. Clearly loopy and unfit to drive, Molli insisted on driving her boy and girl, and Kathy and Patrick, to the bus stop which was only a short distance in the neighborhood. For some really stupid reason Kathy sat in the front passenger seat. . . with Patrick in her lap! Molli crashed at low-speed, and fortunately nobody was hurt. But when the police arrived obviously they found out about Kathy and Patrick. And so shortly after that we had a DCF worker coming to OUR door, and I had to intervene, doing the best I could to hide my disgust at Kathy for not telling me the whole truth of the crash until I saw the police report. Fortunately Kahy got just a slap on the wrist. Since I was not there at the time, I was basically told to closely monitor both Kathy and Patrick. We were given a written warning to not let Molli babysit Patrick. For a few days,on the DCF worker's recommendation, I called the police department to make sure there were no arrest warrants out for Kathy---there were not, thank God. I told Kathy in no uncertain terms to never EVER get in this situation again---either she insist on driving, or simply walk to the bus stop instead. Common sense, right? Sometimes Kathy is so nice and tolerant that it endangers her.
Shortly thereafter, the children were taken away from Molli, and Molli was put into a state institution where she did not emerge for several months. When she did return, she was visibly healthier, calmer and sexier. She also met a man, an ex-criminal named Woberto who apparently had gotten his life straightened out for the most part and embraced a similar type of Christian fundamentalism to Molli's belief. She fell head over heels for him, and he played her like a fiddle. Soon enough, by early summer, they got married even though they'd only met a few months' previous while they were both in the state institution. Kathy and I were their witnesses. Sadly, their marriage fell apart very quickly, as Woberto began reverting to his former felonious self, and began using the marriage as an excuse to terrorize and intimidate Molli. kathy got caught in the middle of this, and so did I simply because of marriage. Woberto threw away Molli's medication, relentlessly monitoring Molli's every move, answering the phone for her, and harrassing her whenever Kathy was over. Behind my back he manipulated Kathy into doing things for him---giving him rides back and forth to parole officer meetings, and such---and I became infuriated for two reasons. One, when you're getting back on your feet you'll need some assistance but do not take advantage of those who are trying to help you out of the goodness of their hearts. Two, spending that much less time with me was getting on my nerves. Yes, that's a bit selfish, but I'd be far happier to see her helping herself---after all, Kathy had a whole slew of personal problems to contend with herself.
All this further wore down my overall energy, and I quickly realized I had little to no creative energy left to spare, and I gradually withdrew from the Internet, wasting only significant time at "Yahoo Answers", something that's now very much in my Internet past though I still occasionally talk to people I met there. I would half-heartedly work on art stuff at a very slow, uninspired pace. I decided to put off looking for a publisher for my first novel, until a later date until things on the home front and the work front were a bit more certain. At work, the drive for unionization began in earnest. Though I am generally against unions (simply because a well-run employer that treats its guests and employees properly doesn't ever need the antiquated collective-bargaining hassle and haggling of a union), I could see the great damage done to both customers and employees by the John O'Brien management team, and Foxwoods went from being slightly behind Mohegan Sun in the regional casino market, to being appallingly behind in terms of employee morale, customer service, entertainment, and overall "vibe". While I am no expert on casino marketing, it didn't take a rocket scientist to see the O'Brien team was running Foxwoods right smack down headfirst. Though I continued to try my hardest, whether I was dealing or flooring (supervising) I couldn't help but be embarrassed and ashamed. At the same time, I could see people were jumping ship, there was an expansion to be opened in Spring 2008, and quite frankly Foxwoods couldn't get much worse than the present state. So . . . I settled in, kept the whole union debate issue at arm's length (after all, I am friendly with some union people, some members of management, and the Pequot tribe!) , didn't sign any union cards, and tried to ignore both the union shills and the flag-waver management types who festooned every nook and cranny of Foxwoods employee areas with (ultimately counter-productive) anti-union propoganda which made World War Two propaganda look subtle by comparison. I sense I frustrated people because I refused to take sides at first, but that's their problem and not mine, and I certainly hold no ill will against anyone. When a new job bid went up for "full" Floor Supervisor in September I put in for it right away, sensing there'd be a great deal of politics and such before the promotions actually happened. So I settled in, endured more stress reading and evaluating both pro-union and anti-union leadership (after all, ignorance is not always bliss!) , and as always listening and doodling while on my work breaks. Dealing days almost completely evaporated, and I was getting solid blocks of flooring days. While some people objected (after all, they were making less money supervising than they were dealing!) I actually welcomed them because I knew that if I was to get promoted on my terms (hard work and merit, rather than through favoritism and buddy system which are very dishonest practices in my opinion) I would have to make it happen, and outshine my peers to the very best of my ability. This workplace uncertainty and anticipation also made my creative juices flow less than in the past. Since I believe in a "head in the clouds, feet firmly on the ground) way of real-life ambition, I willingly secured my feet on the ground so I could stretch even further into those clouds at a later date. Sometimes, my back and the rest of my body would hurt from all this stretching. Chiropractor, anyone?
Kathy and I ran into several more problems toward the end of the year. Kathy was not being completely honest to me about the bills. So over her objections I took over the bills, got a LOT of shutoff shittiness resolved, and successfully took out loans. This little bump was extremely stressful, but now we're paid up and beyond, in many instances. Kathy and I had a heated yet civil argument, they we made up and kissed, and the rest. Just before Thanksgiving the car died, a predictable casualty of Kathy's paper route. I was forced to miss three days of work because this happened on a weekend and the rental shops and auto repair places were closed. We had to get a rental car, and Kathy finally quit the paper delivery job after it finally dawned upon her to consider getting a real part-time job that didn't cause so much wear and tear on the car. She said she'd get us suitable candidates for another used car, but she silently freaked and didn't look very much. Because I work at night and sleep during the day, it's really up to her to take the initiative. Yet the thought of taking the initiative clearly bothers her sometimes, so as of this writing we still do not have our own car. We are looking for a reliable, bare-bones, foreign (Japanese or German, preferrably) seat that costs $5000 or less and is definitely not a lemony automotive piece of Detroit shit. I have burned a lot of sick time in the past because of car problems, and I fervently intend to get our first new car within the next few years. I've made the mistake of impulse buying used cars that seemed good, but had deeply serious problems a third-party inspection would have revealed. I definitely don't want to go that route again!
I should mention that some of these struggles aggravated my adult form of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), although it was nothing life threatening or seriously detrimental. Stattera (atomexetine hydrocholride) is not a stimulant (that is, legalized speed!) but it does have some shitty side-effects. I already walk funny and talk funny, things that I cannot control, and the Strattera makes my mouth dry and my speech more slurry. There are other side effects, as well. It is not a cure-all, and alhough it greatly helps me with my focus and concentration it also makes me feel sleepy. When faced with pressure, stress and uncertainty that I cannot remedy myself (such as home-related stuff regarding the bills and Kathy's general health which I greatly worry about) I procrastinate a lot more than I usually do, I lose focus, become very distracted, become irritable and cranky and lethargic, and generally not a pleasant person to be around. So taking everything else into account, it just makes everything worse. At the end of the year I wondered if this prescription really was doing anything. I have been on it since around 1999/2000, when it was a study drug yet to be appoved by the FDA. I had previously been on Dexedrine, which I hated because it's amphetamines which of course are illegal drugs without the prescription. So I stopped taking it for a week, and discovered the Strattera was really doing something after all, because I went into an unfocused, hazy week-long funk where I accomplished absolutely nothing outside of work. My body also ached and felt really weird and weak for the first few days. So----I'm glad I ended THAT little experiment although I sensed it did my body little harm. After all, I was becoming noticeably hyper at work, even more so than my usual energetic, busy work pace. I am sort of crazy in a good way and give that impression most of the time, but I don't want people to get the idea I'm using "something else" along with the non-stimulant prescription drug, Strattera. Maybe my body needed the cleansing because now I feel a lot less hyper and wound up, and more focused and calm. For example, this tremendously long journal entry was supposed to be done last week, but at the time I had neither the energy nor the motivation to get it done----and at the time I wasn't taking the Strattera or anything else for my adult ADHD.
I need to end this entry on a happier note since I do realize much of this is brooding and frankly not that much fun to read, unless of course you're someone who likes watching train wrecks. The next entry will have belated New Years resolutions, all of which I believe are attainable goals. I did get the promotion to "full" Floor Supervisor, and with that being said I will end this depressing entry right here, right now.
(Well, for those of you who doubt I ever wrote a novel in the first place, here is a link for you: http://www.elftown.com/_pauly'.....20book%20stuff Also, why in the world why I try to be delusional about something like this? Honestly. I don't publish the actual novel online because (1.) I am protecting my copyright and my ideas, many of which are unique, (2.) Traditional publishers are generally adverse to publishing things that had have previously been published online. This is why you will see a lot of experimental/humorous/dragonish stuff online, but you will not see my more "serious" novel, which by the way has plenty of experimental/humorous/dragonish stuff!)
Anyhow, 2007 was generally one continuous struggle for me. It started with my being turned down for promotion to "Full" Floor Supervisor at work, which in retrospect was a wise decision, since in the year since I've gained a lot of experience and know-how I simply did not have back then. I am sort of prone to being sluggish in the winter months, and this on top of it made me slow down for a while, and though I won't go so far to say I was depressed, I definitely felt down enough to really not do too much for a while.
Things generally got worse on the home front when Kathy started showing the signs she was no longer seeing her doctor for treatment, or at least not at often as she used to. Furthermore, she was wreaking havoc on her body. After ballooning out to disgusting proportions in 2006, she dropped a lot of weight---which was certainly a good thing, I thought, until I saw she was eating very poorly again. She would frequently try to hide the evidence from me. I'd follow an ant trail under the couch and find lots of sugary, sticky candy wrappers. I'd go to bed and find candy wrappers in the pillow case. Patrick, our eight year old son, told me she was doing stuff like this frequently, even over Patrick's objections. Money started mysteriously disappearing from my wallet without explanation---I took Kathy's assertion she was paying the bills. She kept on telling me she was paying the bills and such, but as it turned out she was not paying them at all. The crippling blow came when I stumbled across a pile of concealed mail, which included a heat shutoff notice. There was just too much money to be owed (money that Kathy was not paying!) so we went from April to September with no heat at all. When we wanted to get clean, we heated up water on the stove or microwaved it, and sponge-bathed. All the while Kathy continued to do her car-delivery paper route, which I pleaded with her to discontinue because it would probably wind up destroying the car, as these kind of jobs are notorious for doing. I just wanted her to get a part-time "real" job that would minimize the wear and tear on the car. Simple enough, yes? She'd give me the run-around but I had a disconcerting sense she was not looking at all. She became very passive, and neglected both herself, and---sometimes, but frequent enough to notice----Patrick. She tended to yell at him a lot, to get whiny, to not be persuasive at all. I very often had to intervene to get Patrick to listen to her, and to get Kathy to stop being so unreasonably shrill and unreasonably demanding. Sometimes I sensed Kathy didn't even want to be a parent, much less care.
The underlying problems of our struggling relationship became unmistakable around the time of my brother's marriage, where I was supposed to be part of his party but was not. A good deal of this is my fault. E-mails to me become lost in the "Bulk" folder, and also frankly I was at a low ebb. Procrastination became rampant. Kathy did not relay several crucial letters and telephone messages to me, often erasing those messages. (This same situation also had the IRS auditing me and garnishing my wages, starting around that time.) So even though we did go to the wedding, for me it was a very awkward experience because I was the best man and had to bail out on short notice. Until I once again work during the day and sleep at night, I'm never going to go the wedding-party route for anyone. The conflicts of hours and shifts just makes everything screwed up, to put it very mildly. However, with these crazy hours I get to see my son before he goes to school, and again before I go to work. So that makes it all worthwhile, hardships and all!
I insisted Kathy get a second paper route, until she actually got a permanent part-time job. Things were becoming critical. At the same time her friend Molli came home from an institution and got married at home, with Kathy and myself being her witnesses. This deserves a back-story because what happened after that really messed up whatever remaining happiness and tranquility we had.
Molli used to live next door to us when we lived in a one-room apartment, from about 1998 to late 2003 when we belatedly moved to the bigger apartment. (The move itself came during a major low point of our relationship, but I won't get into that here.) Molli was a single mother, with two then three children by different fathers who all screwed her very badly, being deadbeat pricks who did not pay child support. Despite that, Molli was (and is) a very good person, but after some time she began cracking under the strains. She wanted and NEEDED a father figure to her children. She tried seducing me shortly after we moved into the two-room apartment. Since I was very near to looking for a divorce lawyer, it almost happened one day, just after Christmas when I just wanted to drop by and say "hi". she made moves on me that I could barely resist. My hormones spun out of control. Though we were both clothed, I had Molli up against the wall, her bare legs wrapped tightly around me. And then we came to our senses, and that's as far as it got. I couldn't use Kathy's personal struggles as an excuse to cheat on her. In any event, within a few weeks I told Kathy everything about what happened, once things were on the mend in our relationship. And despite that betrayal, Kathy continued being her friend, though I tried as much as possible to distance myself from Molli---my hormones require a very strong will to keep under control, once tantalized. Were I still single, I think I'd have way more than one child right now . . . but I digress. Molli began collapsing under the strain of her very stressful life. Already a very bad chainsmoker, Molli began abusing painkillers, and her doctor was either irresponsible or ignorant because she had to go to the emergency room. Molli stopped working around that time, entirely supported by state welfare programs and child support payments. Her grown daughter abandoned her in her time of need. The state became aware of the situation, and within a year both minor-aged children were taken away from her and put into foster care. The final straw happened around Thanksgiving 2005. Clearly loopy and unfit to drive, Molli insisted on driving her boy and girl, and Kathy and Patrick, to the bus stop which was only a short distance in the neighborhood. For some really stupid reason Kathy sat in the front passenger seat. . . with Patrick in her lap! Molli crashed at low-speed, and fortunately nobody was hurt. But when the police arrived obviously they found out about Kathy and Patrick. And so shortly after that we had a DCF worker coming to OUR door, and I had to intervene, doing the best I could to hide my disgust at Kathy for not telling me the whole truth of the crash until I saw the police report. Fortunately Kahy got just a slap on the wrist. Since I was not there at the time, I was basically told to closely monitor both Kathy and Patrick. We were given a written warning to not let Molli babysit Patrick. For a few days,on the DCF worker's recommendation, I called the police department to make sure there were no arrest warrants out for Kathy---there were not, thank God. I told Kathy in no uncertain terms to never EVER get in this situation again---either she insist on driving, or simply walk to the bus stop instead. Common sense, right? Sometimes Kathy is so nice and tolerant that it endangers her.
Shortly thereafter, the children were taken away from Molli, and Molli was put into a state institution where she did not emerge for several months. When she did return, she was visibly healthier, calmer and sexier. She also met a man, an ex-criminal named Woberto who apparently had gotten his life straightened out for the most part and embraced a similar type of Christian fundamentalism to Molli's belief. She fell head over heels for him, and he played her like a fiddle. Soon enough, by early summer, they got married even though they'd only met a few months' previous while they were both in the state institution. Kathy and I were their witnesses. Sadly, their marriage fell apart very quickly, as Woberto began reverting to his former felonious self, and began using the marriage as an excuse to terrorize and intimidate Molli. kathy got caught in the middle of this, and so did I simply because of marriage. Woberto threw away Molli's medication, relentlessly monitoring Molli's every move, answering the phone for her, and harrassing her whenever Kathy was over. Behind my back he manipulated Kathy into doing things for him---giving him rides back and forth to parole officer meetings, and such---and I became infuriated for two reasons. One, when you're getting back on your feet you'll need some assistance but do not take advantage of those who are trying to help you out of the goodness of their hearts. Two, spending that much less time with me was getting on my nerves. Yes, that's a bit selfish, but I'd be far happier to see her helping herself---after all, Kathy had a whole slew of personal problems to contend with herself.
All this further wore down my overall energy, and I quickly realized I had little to no creative energy left to spare, and I gradually withdrew from the Internet, wasting only significant time at "Yahoo Answers", something that's now very much in my Internet past though I still occasionally talk to people I met there. I would half-heartedly work on art stuff at a very slow, uninspired pace. I decided to put off looking for a publisher for my first novel, until a later date until things on the home front and the work front were a bit more certain. At work, the drive for unionization began in earnest. Though I am generally against unions (simply because a well-run employer that treats its guests and employees properly doesn't ever need the antiquated collective-bargaining hassle and haggling of a union), I could see the great damage done to both customers and employees by the John O'Brien management team, and Foxwoods went from being slightly behind Mohegan Sun in the regional casino market, to being appallingly behind in terms of employee morale, customer service, entertainment, and overall "vibe". While I am no expert on casino marketing, it didn't take a rocket scientist to see the O'Brien team was running Foxwoods right smack down headfirst. Though I continued to try my hardest, whether I was dealing or flooring (supervising) I couldn't help but be embarrassed and ashamed. At the same time, I could see people were jumping ship, there was an expansion to be opened in Spring 2008, and quite frankly Foxwoods couldn't get much worse than the present state. So . . . I settled in, kept the whole union debate issue at arm's length (after all, I am friendly with some union people, some members of management, and the Pequot tribe!) , didn't sign any union cards, and tried to ignore both the union shills and the flag-waver management types who festooned every nook and cranny of Foxwoods employee areas with (ultimately counter-productive) anti-union propoganda which made World War Two propaganda look subtle by comparison. I sense I frustrated people because I refused to take sides at first, but that's their problem and not mine, and I certainly hold no ill will against anyone. When a new job bid went up for "full" Floor Supervisor in September I put in for it right away, sensing there'd be a great deal of politics and such before the promotions actually happened. So I settled in, endured more stress reading and evaluating both pro-union and anti-union leadership (after all, ignorance is not always bliss!) , and as always listening and doodling while on my work breaks. Dealing days almost completely evaporated, and I was getting solid blocks of flooring days. While some people objected (after all, they were making less money supervising than they were dealing!) I actually welcomed them because I knew that if I was to get promoted on my terms (hard work and merit, rather than through favoritism and buddy system which are very dishonest practices in my opinion) I would have to make it happen, and outshine my peers to the very best of my ability. This workplace uncertainty and anticipation also made my creative juices flow less than in the past. Since I believe in a "head in the clouds, feet firmly on the ground) way of real-life ambition, I willingly secured my feet on the ground so I could stretch even further into those clouds at a later date. Sometimes, my back and the rest of my body would hurt from all this stretching. Chiropractor, anyone?
Kathy and I ran into several more problems toward the end of the year. Kathy was not being completely honest to me about the bills. So over her objections I took over the bills, got a LOT of shutoff shittiness resolved, and successfully took out loans. This little bump was extremely stressful, but now we're paid up and beyond, in many instances. Kathy and I had a heated yet civil argument, they we made up and kissed, and the rest. Just before Thanksgiving the car died, a predictable casualty of Kathy's paper route. I was forced to miss three days of work because this happened on a weekend and the rental shops and auto repair places were closed. We had to get a rental car, and Kathy finally quit the paper delivery job after it finally dawned upon her to consider getting a real part-time job that didn't cause so much wear and tear on the car. She said she'd get us suitable candidates for another used car, but she silently freaked and didn't look very much. Because I work at night and sleep during the day, it's really up to her to take the initiative. Yet the thought of taking the initiative clearly bothers her sometimes, so as of this writing we still do not have our own car. We are looking for a reliable, bare-bones, foreign (Japanese or German, preferrably) seat that costs $5000 or less and is definitely not a lemony automotive piece of Detroit shit. I have burned a lot of sick time in the past because of car problems, and I fervently intend to get our first new car within the next few years. I've made the mistake of impulse buying used cars that seemed good, but had deeply serious problems a third-party inspection would have revealed. I definitely don't want to go that route again!
I should mention that some of these struggles aggravated my adult form of attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), although it was nothing life threatening or seriously detrimental. Stattera (atomexetine hydrocholride) is not a stimulant (that is, legalized speed!) but it does have some shitty side-effects. I already walk funny and talk funny, things that I cannot control, and the Strattera makes my mouth dry and my speech more slurry. There are other side effects, as well. It is not a cure-all, and alhough it greatly helps me with my focus and concentration it also makes me feel sleepy. When faced with pressure, stress and uncertainty that I cannot remedy myself (such as home-related stuff regarding the bills and Kathy's general health which I greatly worry about) I procrastinate a lot more than I usually do, I lose focus, become very distracted, become irritable and cranky and lethargic, and generally not a pleasant person to be around. So taking everything else into account, it just makes everything worse. At the end of the year I wondered if this prescription really was doing anything. I have been on it since around 1999/2000, when it was a study drug yet to be appoved by the FDA. I had previously been on Dexedrine, which I hated because it's amphetamines which of course are illegal drugs without the prescription. So I stopped taking it for a week, and discovered the Strattera was really doing something after all, because I went into an unfocused, hazy week-long funk where I accomplished absolutely nothing outside of work. My body also ached and felt really weird and weak for the first few days. So----I'm glad I ended THAT little experiment although I sensed it did my body little harm. After all, I was becoming noticeably hyper at work, even more so than my usual energetic, busy work pace. I am sort of crazy in a good way and give that impression most of the time, but I don't want people to get the idea I'm using "something else" along with the non-stimulant prescription drug, Strattera. Maybe my body needed the cleansing because now I feel a lot less hyper and wound up, and more focused and calm. For example, this tremendously long journal entry was supposed to be done last week, but at the time I had neither the energy nor the motivation to get it done----and at the time I wasn't taking the Strattera or anything else for my adult ADHD.
I need to end this entry on a happier note since I do realize much of this is brooding and frankly not that much fun to read, unless of course you're someone who likes watching train wrecks. The next entry will have belated New Years resolutions, all of which I believe are attainable goals. I did get the promotion to "full" Floor Supervisor, and with that being said I will end this depressing entry right here, right now.
