a cheap sweetie
October 20, 2006
Since it looks like I will be spending the day wandering around a convention center, looking at toy trains, I'm not really too psyched about "Sweetest Day". For many years, this was Spouse's day to show me he loved me--I reciprocated on Valentine's day. But it's been quite a while since he abandoned any and all indications that he cared, so I haven't gotten any gifts for years.
But I still throw a token his way sometimes. This year, I'm making a fudge-frosted pound cake. It's a big favorite with him--just like momma used to buy at the bakery.
And I got him a 99-cent card. So I'm looking at about an hour's labor, and about three bucks or so in cash outlay for cake and card.
Like I said. I'm a cheap sweetie. I'm as tight with affection these days as I am with a buck, too. And for pretty much the same reason.
One SD gift I bought for him, nine years ago, is the gift that keeps on giving--Miss Raji the magnificent. If tomorrow is a special day to me at all, it is because it's the anniversary of Raj's adoption . When I think back to that gawky, under-socialized adolescent Labrador; the one who didn't even understand what affection was--I can scarcely believe that it's the same dog. She was so "touch me not" when we first got her, and now she's the most snuggly, tactile pooch I've ever owned. I love our baby girl.
I gave up on Zyrtec. It wasn�t doing anything. The Claritin doesn�t eliminate the symptoms, but at least it takes them down a notch. I know I said I was going to give it a month, but I had to get some relief.
The Zyrtec felt like it was actually making things worse. Frankly, I think I just don�t respond well to pills. Whether it is pain meds, allergy pills, the Zelnorm, or even most GERD treatments, they never work worth a shit for me. The only drugs I ever took that had really great results were Triaminicin, Sudafed and Prilosec, and two of them have been taken away from me. Phenylpropanolamine was outlawed because of idiotic abusers having strokes, and now Sudafed has been dumbed down to where it doesn�t work for anybody, and I can�t get real pseudoephedrine without spending half a day in the drugstore and being made to feel like a criminal. Fucking tweaker losers aren�t satisfied until they�ve screwed up the lives of pretty much everybody, I guess.
Reading: �A Home at the End of the World�, by Michael Cunningham. Beading: Nothing.
Listening: U2, �The Joshua Tree�.
At Random: click here
|