I have to go sit in my empty old apartment this morning to wait for the rug cleaners. Possibly from 12-4. Don't wanna. I hope they show up at the earlier end of the window instead of the latter end of it.

Despite the fact that I am the pharmaceutical knowledge go-to girl, I would just like to say that I hate and despise medication right now.

I was already smack in the fun part of Zoloft withdrawal symptoms, which on their own are bad enough, BUT THEN I took massive doses of steroids for 2 days and had to stop them abruptly because of the allergic reaction, thus creating -- sort of -- double withdrawal.

I absolutely recognize that that's the reason that I feel so shitty, but knowing it doesn't help at all. (Well, okay, it helps a tiny bit in that at least I'm not completely mystified as to why I'm INSANE AND WEEPING. And I know enough to know that it's also not an indication that I need to go back on the Zoloft. The most evil irony of SSRI withdrawal is that it causes the very symptoms that make people take antidepressants [mood swings, weeping, general cave-troll-like behavior].)

But knowing *why* my moods are whipsawing all over the place doesn't make them calm down, damn it. And I have a lunch appointment 2 hours from now with the communications director from the medical group that did my back surgery -- did I mention this? -- because they want to use my Yay I Can Walk 5 Years After Surgery story on their Web site. Which is cool, and I'm enough of an attention whore to be thrilled, but today is a bad day to interview me.

They also put a picture of the patient along with the success story (they have MANY success stories on their Web site, and some are so amazing as to make my surgery look like a mere boo-boo; we're talking goddamn BRAIN SURGERY, people). Thanks to the time-honored Buffista practice of posting pictures of new hair, etc., I have a lot of pictures of me, and I asked the communications director if I could send her one of those, rather than her taking my picture at lunch. She said yes, which is a huge relief.

Because (1) allergic reaction making me look like a pink version of Violet Beauregard right now, (2) I'm vain and would prefer to give them a picture that I tweaked in Photoshop, and (3) mood swinginess might lead to a picture of me weeping or snarling, which really isn't my best look.

(For the record, in the time that it took to type this post, I've gone from weepy to bereft to amused and now back to sort of a baseline need-caffeine-ness. Oh, pharmacopeia, how I despise your ass right now.)

I think mine would say "Bitch--don't test me/I don't fucking want to smile/Allergic to stupidity/Grammar Nazi/Show me you're not a waste of space"

For the record, in the time that it took to type this post, I've gone from weepy to bereft to amused and now back to sort of a baseline need-caffeine-ness. Oh, pharmacopeia, how I despise your ass right now.

Ah, yes. I know that one well. I hope it goes well, Teppy. And then, after that, you take it easy, right?

My sash would say a lot of positive things but the one peeve I'd love to get out front is:

Please do not tell me how much you disrespect my profession, then follow up with your entire life story and ask me to fix you. Dude. You don't believe in therapy? Walk ON.

Ahem.

It would also say things like:

Why yes, my dog is awesome. You are safe with me. Have you tried my chocolate cake? Next stop, Nirvana...and I don't mean the band. Kind, loyal, true. Pagan in a good way.

{{{{{Teppy}}}}} I'm sorry you're feeling so awful right now. I hope you're feeling much better soon.

And then, after that, you take it easy, right?

I didn't go to the gym after work yesterday. That was the only thing specified in our deal!

Okay, okay. But I'm just allergic-reaction girl, which is different than your current state of feeling less than optimal. I might go lift weights after lunch, because I'm less itchy (not totally itch-free, but less so), and I think endorphins would help me a LOT.

And after that, a nap.

t edit Randomly, dog #1 came over and licked my foot once, sighed heavily, and laid down on his bed. What's with the sigh, man? My foot is not meant to taste like kibble!

I didn't go to the gym after work yesterday. That was the only thing specified in our deal!

Really? Boy, I shouldn't make deals when drugged up! I thought you were going to take it easy all weekend.

And after that, a nap.

Ok. I'll go with that.

Really? Boy, I shouldn't make deals when drugged up! I thought you were going to take it easy all weekend.

Well, I don't plan to do *much,* and endorphins are good for my drug-deprived brain.

and endorphins are good for my drug-deprived brain.

Yes. Very true. Despite all the pain, I've been trying really hard to still do some walking, because while it makes it worse in the moment, it's better in the long-run. Or, that's what I keep telling myself.