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I must keep reminding myself I am not alone in my unemployment. Nor is my situation unique in any other respect.
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This Discover article has a sensational title about turning soldiers "into telepaths" but in fact it's about brain research, and how we might one day be able to read words directly from the brain.
Getting them into another brain--that's the problem. But of course we can print words on a screen to be read, or have a text-to-speech system whisper those words into an ear...but then it's not telepathy, is it? It's just a fancy way of bypassing a set of vocal cords.
Neat idea, though.
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I bet it can't withstand DDT. Bring back DDT, damn it!
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Went to bed around 4, didn't sleep until after 5, woke up before 8 to a phone call. *sigh*
The phone call was about the distribution paperwork I sent to Charter One (insert usual warning here) to tell them what to do with my portion of that piece of Mom's estate. I forgot to tell them what I wanted; and so they had to call me to ask what I wanted.
...I noticed that I hadn't checked anything about a day after it was mailed, and said FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU--! But fortunately the phone call was enough to get things moving, so they'll be cutting me a check (less a 10% withholding for taxes) and it'll arrive here soon enough.
This is good, because due to all the goddamned taxes I've had to pay this year I'm running out of money!
Right now I've got about $2k left out of roughly $8,500, and I have to continually remind myself that so far this year I've paid over $2,000 in taxes alone and shortly have to cut a check for another thousand dollars. I was really stressing over all this, especially since I'm looking at another health insurance premium ($500) and car insurance premium ($300) on top of this unexpected tax bill.
The $8,500 was what I was willing to use for living expenses, figuring that I'd be in a decent job by now. Well, it didn't work out that way; things happened at the wrong pace and the wrong time for me and I imploded. Shit happens. My big worry this past week was running out of money and having nothing left to live on while the economy struggles with ObamaNomics; but now that'll be fixed relatively soon and I can relax, damn it.
It's hard enough having an anxiety disorder, you know, which keeps you from sleeping at night and makes a wreck out of you without all this bullshit.
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Speaking of which, I'm resistant to the idea of changing my medication, either dose or type; but it might not be the worst idea.
My big problem is that I feel as if the medication makes me stupid--not stupid, really, but less sharp--but that I need it to keep myself from being an anxious wreck all the time, with a short temper. The calmer demeanor is the good part; but I worry that it makes me too relaxed.
...then I look at my oldest sister. The other night I was worried that she's going to put herself into an early grave, the way she treats every negative thing as an emergency crisis that must be screamed into submission. (...I meant to write "emergency crisis" there. An emergency crisis is worse than either an emergency or a crisis alone. Now you know!) (I just made that up, by the way.)
After I got out of the psych ward, I worried that the deep depression I'd suffered had caused brain damage, because I felt thick and fuzzy and decidedly not "with it"...but as the weeks went on I began feeling sharper, and I kind of think I'm back to where I was before all this began--at least in the cognitive ability department. (Working on the motorcycle didn't hurt one bit.)
I know that running around from perceived emergency to imagined crisis like a headless chicken, having your blood pressure spike thirty times a day because you can't calm down and you're stressed out and you're aggravated with all the stupidity around you--that's no way to live, and it's not good for you...and that's largely how I was before starting on the medication in 2002-ish.
So there's no way in hell I'm going to stop taking the stuff just because it makes me feel a bit thick. WTF, I'm no genius; "if I were, would I be here?" There have been enough times in my life that I felt like I was too smart for my own good, so what the hell.
The medication made a big enough difference that I'm sticking with it; I'm worried that changing it will decrease the good stuff that's come out of it.
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Thanks to the Haruhi books, I've put a name to another of Kyon's classmates.
Sitting in the back row, skipping the dude immediately next to Haruhi, is Sakanaka-san:
6 down, 24 to go!