....Will no one write her eulogy?
"I will," said the Earth
"For all I've created returns unto me
From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be"
Paul Simon 1964
Been loving lots of little sparrows this week. And pigeons, and doves, and oiled-up seagulls from a spill into a wetland reserve. Writing too many eulogies as well. It keeps me out of too much trouble, I guess. But adds a lot of hurt too.
Dinner with my folks on Weds - in town to look after my sister's kids while she and h/b are attending a conference in Russia. And dinner tonight with cat-buddy - with way too much wine and even way more too much Chinese food, because I wasn't feeling very sociable, would rather have had quiet evening and early bedtime. And quiet weekend has bitten the dust, between cat-buddy probably being here for big bits of it because her PC blew earlier and she has a book deadline to meet, so I offered mine as emergency aid. As well, I have to go out to domestic-rescue centre to drop some stuff off, SPCA to return a trap, and our centre to wash more birds. Even with contracting and working from home, weekends are different. Mostly because housekeeper isn't here and I can indulge myself by spending the day never getting further dressed than my bath towel.
Good bit for the last 4 days was seeing p-doc today. He wanted to know what sleeping pills I've been taking for last week if not the benzo, and conned me into admitting that I still had some Ambien in my collection. Tells me gleefully that he can always see when I'm trying not to mention something cos I get a strange little twist to my mouth. Damn, I used to be the best liar I knew. Although I never lie to him anyway, I'd like to have the option though at least. So he's now made a note in plain English - rather than code squiggles - that he will only give more Ambien when he gets something in exchange. And that when I'm on call, I have to take less. In return, when he wrote the script for the next week, I summoned up my most innocent face when it got to Ambien quantity and didn't say anything as he figured how much he'd give me - he stopped at 1 1/2 per night. Only taking one when I'm not on call, and a half when I am. Shit. I might as well enjoy feeling like I scored something for tonight, because I'll end up confessing next time.
And he wanted to know if I'm coping with the whole call thing. Said I was, sort of. I'm not. Tied up in knots half the time, feel like I'm not coping with anything, never mind work. Feel sick every time the phone rings. This is why I stopped working full time, and it's even worse now because I haven't been doing the stuff every day. Not sleeping properly doesn't help, and neither does not eating or stuffing my face.... and when I do eat, I generally throw up. Don't honestly know if getting paid lots is worth this, but I can't quit now, not with just having signed a years contract.
Shit, shit, extra shit....almost 00h30 and work has just called. For the client I know least about, with a problem I know nothing about because it's a result of other problems they had with the tape robot. Timeout while I throw up again. Guess this one is another wing and a prayer one...if anyone listens to atheist's prayers...