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I don't like my parents.

They didn't abuse me. I just don't like them.

I also don't like people who make me feel like such a defective person that obviously something must have been done to me in my childhood to make me act the way I do.

I guess I'm just not a nice person, okay? Not everyone is.

Today I had an appointment with my shrink. Getting there was another bus adventure. The actual appointment was completely uneventful. I think he is my favoritest shrink ever - he doesn't give a rat's ass about me. He doesn't remember anything about me. He doesn't look at my file. He just asks if I want to change my medication. I don't.

Ok, so, to recap: if my own psychiatrist is not interested in my childhood... right. You'd be gaining no insight to question me about mine.

You know, I think I just might take certain comments a little bit to personally every now and then.
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Uh huh, you've noticed I've been conspicuously silent.

Lol, no you haven't. But I have been, haven't I?

Well you see, I have been busy hanging out in that fun place called the ER.

I'm fine. Everything is fine, I am ok, there is no need for concern. Seriously. You get to reading this journal, you'll see. I have this tendency to end up there one way or another. Partly because I guess I'm just unlucky, partly because I'm kind of known for doing stupid shit, and partly because I'm just more susceptible to certain things because I have a SCI.

So this particular time was pretty much a false alarm. I joke about being a hypochondriac but really, I'm just trying to be responsible. It's always better to be too careful than not careful enough, is it not?

So this all starts with sleep and me not doing enough of it. )

Ok then. Now you know where i disappeared to. Everything is fine here.

Erica and I have pretty much agreed that we like each other too much to actually remain pissed off - she's not apologizing, I'm not apologizing. Although, really, I would have if I thought it was necessary. I really wish I hadn't snapped at her like that. I still think it was obnoxious how she was acting that day, but - I don't like flying off the handle like that. I am not certain that she's not going to turn up without calling again - which is very annoying to me, and she really doesn't grasp that, it seems. But I am pretty certain she's going to let the whole "let's go to the beach" campaign have a rest for now.
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So yesterday morning I woke up with my right shoulder hurting. That's right, my right shoulder. Not my left shoulder.


But, I took my muscle relaxer, and eventually it felt tolerable.

BUT FIRST. Ok see here is how my day went yesterday. I had to be at work at 5am. Ok, so, I left the house in plenty of time to get to work on time. I was not late. I am very rarely ever late. My boss, Renee, is late at least once a week. I think I've bitched about that before. So let me just say one more time that I was not late. In fact, I was probably a few minutes early. And the doors are unlocked and the lights are on, so I figure Renee is there already. Which is rare - usually she and I arrive at the same time, or I get there first. I go inside - it's Renee and Other Girl opening up. And I'm like... hi? And she's like oh, Lara, what are you doing here? We don't need you today, I have Other Girl coming in for you all week. And I was like, well, we spoke on the phone, remember, and I told you I was coming back today, here is all my documentation, doctor's note, etc.

And she just looked at me, didn't take the papers from me, and was like, "I said I didn't need you today."

And I was like, ok, well, when we spoke on the phone, you didn't say anything about me not coming in today.

And she was like, well, you said you couldn't work, so I had to get your shifts covered.

And I was like, yes, but I still don't see what that has to do with today.

So, screw you, Renee, this will now be a whole week of not working, and so this will be a skipped paycheck. Not a small paycheck, a skipped paycheck. No money.

So I stopped in the back to look at next week's schedule, just to make sure. Usually I work Monday-Friday at 5am, but my shift ends at a different time every day, totally randomly. Well next week she has me working 5-7. Yep, that's five am to seven am. Two hours every day. That's eight hours for the week. Usually I work about fifteen or twenty. EIGHT.

Like I said, though, my shoulder was really hurting and so I just left rather than say anything else to her, and went back home. Of course I couldn't sleep or anything, so I just screwed around all morning and got more and more pissy as the day went on.

Click to continue reading this long ass-entry. LOL I love doing that, sticking the hyphen in the wrong space! )

Anyway. Doctor Who hopefully tonight, definitely by tomorrow.
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So I did go to the doctor today (dear [livejournal.com profile] tenfeethigh, I also just wrote doctor with a capital D... and btw hope your finger starts feeling better...) and NOTHING DISASTROUS happened... I didn't get much information on what exactly the doctor thought was wrong with me, which is pretty much what I expected to happen, but he wrote me a prescription for some muscle relaxers, which I filled and promptly took and then fell asleep right away and woke up feeling better than I have in quite some time - he said if they didn't work after a few days to come back. They worked. I take it that's a very good sign. - He also wrote me a prescription for an x-ray and an MRI, which I had to call and make appointments for, OF COURSE like six weeks from now... and he wrote me a prescription for physical therapy, which... I am ambivalent about, but I guess I will go for a consult at least, if for no other reason than to see what a physical therapist says about the xray and mri...

I also got a note saying I'm allowed to return to work on Thursday, meaning that I'm not going to work tomorrow and Wednesday. I called the coffee co. and Renee made some comment about how "maybe you're just not cut out for this kind of job" and I was like "fuck you, I got hurt, it happens." No, actually I was like, "blah blah blah sorry, please let me keep my job" because I am pathetic like that. Either that or I am stubborn - she doesn't want me working there? Fine. I want to work there then. Funny, though, Vicky at the restaurant has no problem with me missing work, you know, for health reasons and didn't even ask me for a doctor's note. Go figure.

*Waves* hi to anyone who friended me from the Doctor Who comm! I've been going through some personal shit recently and I've really been unloading on this journal, but I swear, I'm not normally like this! And now that season four has started... *rubs hands together* so excited!

Alphabet meme from TenFeetHigh... )
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So, I had this idea last night that maybe I should see a doctor. You know, a woman doctor, an obgyn. Since I've become suddenly a sexually active person again. It would be the health-conscious thing to do, right?

Really, I'm not too worried about myself here. I suppose you can get pregnant from having sex one time, but it would be unlikely at this point in my monthly cycle. I'm actually quite regular. I suppose you can definitely catch a disease from having sex one time, and I suppose it's possible that B could have given me something, but it's about equally possible that I gave him something, for that matter.

It's just... the whole event has unsettled me so badly, and I really have no one to talk to about it. It's not like I have friends to confide in or anything. So I went to the clinic in Philly where I used to go when I lived nearby, and I've been there a few times since moving here, too, because usually they're really good there, and they have all my info on file and everything. Being that going to the doctor is not exactly my most favorite thing to do in the first place, I figured, I might as well go somewhere where I'm comfortable, and not go somewhere new and have to deal with a whole bunch of "new patient" crap and possibly have a bad experience to start with, never mind that it's not like I'm a patient on file anywhere around here so it's not like I could actually get an appointment with anyone...

Oh, I'll cut this, it's gotten kinda long... )


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Lara I.

October 2012

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