Tag Archives: Mommy’s Happy Pills

Things I have learned recently

28 Jul

1. I’m pretty sure Starburst are laced with crack.  Those little suckers are so yummy and addictive, they must have some illegal additive.  And putting a few in your desk drawer and putting the rest of the bag in a further away desk drawer doesn’t work if you have some in the candy basket on your desk.  First, they are still within arm’s reach.  Second, I’m afraid that I may stab the next person who comes in here and takes one, like any junkie crack whore would if their stash was threatened.   

2. I’m busier now and this past week than I have been in the past year.  And I like it.  After dreaming of actually being caught up on my work, which is unheard of, and being so close I could smell the unstressfullness of it all, I am happy to be buried again.  Dear Lord, what is wrong with me?  I am a sadist.  Oh wait, I work in litigation.  I already knew that.

3. I have a strong suspicion that alcohol does not play well with my Mommy’s Happy Pills that Keep Mommy from Running Far, Far Away.  I have not had any wine or the luscious, delectable Electric Smurf (aka Blue Fruity Drink) in a few days, and I feel great.  I’m seriously going to pout over this.  Because Mommy needs a drink every now and then or people could be injured.  Or maimed.  And when I went today to see the lovely doc who prescribes Mommy’s Happy Pills, I forgot to ask her.  I was too stunned by the fact that the visit was only 5 minutes long and I didn’t have anything to say except, Um, I feel great!    I’m pretty sure she’d say what the sticker on the bottle says anyway: “Do not take with alcohol”.  Damn, damn, damnity, damn, damn it all.

4. I am happy to essentially talk to myself on my blog.  Except for the one dear friend who reads my pathetic awesome ramblings.  What does that say about me?   Does it reflect a self-confidence or is it just delusional and sad?  Um, wait, don’t answer that.  Oh yeah, I’m just talking to myself anyway!  (Shut up, Cher) 🙂

5. My son seems to be equally happy to talk to himself, too!  (I should just apologize now to T for all the weirdness he’s probably inherited from me.)   He makes up crazy scenarios in the car, and just starts talking about weird crap all the time.  Sometimes a story will start off with a plausible scenario (“I hit So-and-so today” or “I was in the 3’s classroom today”) and it goes strange places from there.  You never know if he’s making it up entirely, or if there is a hint of truth there somewhere. 

6. This blog seems to be my only outlet for creativity in life.  Unless you ask my boss, who today told me that my job offers lots of creativity!  Really?  Reading medical journals and summarizing medical records is creative?  Okay, granted, sometimes I get nosy and run all kinds of searches because I become convinced that a plaintiff or witness is a sorry, no-good liar and is cuckoo-for-Coco-Puffs (aka a Whack-a-doo).  Sometimes that pans out (Go me!) and sometimes it doesn’t.  But I wouldn’t exactly call that creativity.   Making up stories about trees that talk to you and squirrels who need to find their mommy is creative.   He should ride in the car with me on the way home sometime.