Earlier this week, Boss and I discussing one of the many child custody battles with which we're dealing:
Me: "Who's she married to, again?"
Boss: "Some Chinaman."
Me: ....... "Dude, Chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature. Asian-American, please."
Boss: ......... "Fuck it, Dude, let's go bowling."
That was probably the highlight of my week.
Guess who's not sleeping again?
It started out awesome, with the acupuncture. And then it slowly stopped working. After like 2 and a half weeks, I began taking longer and longer to fall asleep, waking up more and more during the night, and then beginning last week (or maybe halfway through the week before? it's tough to keep track of time when you don't sleep that much) I stopped sleeping altogether. So I'm back on the diphenhydramine. And the occasional Jameson or Bailey's nightcap to make it work faster.
Oh yeah, and the nightmares. SCREW YOU, BRAIN. WHHHYYYYYYYYYY must you torment me with blood-&-gore fests?? Epic warfare in the middle of the Armageddon? Dream-bingeing?? And let's not even talk about the people who keep showing up in my dreams, night after mother-effing night. I'M GOING TO STAB MY SUBCONSCIOUS WITH AN ICE PICK.
Food-wise, this week has also been a disaster. To steal a phrase from a friend, I have fallen off the recovery wagon and been run over by it.
ED roadkill. I have not eaten in 4 days, save for the occasional cup-a-soup (50 cals),
which takes me 2+ hours to consume; and sips of protein shake when I feel faint. (I'd say 5 days of no eating, but I had a handful of pretzels on Monday afternoon [140 cals]). And I've been exercising off more than what I'm consuming. Ephedrine is a miracle-worker.
But my size 0 work trousers are fitting a bit more loosely, so at least I can take comfort in that. I nearly sliced open my brachial artery when I came back from the shore and discovered I had to wear the size 2's to be comfortable. (Express's editor trousers are more true to size than their jeans...)
In more positive news, I finally finished typing and proofreading the 1st major edit of the 3rd book in my pirate/adventure series. The fairy book is still crawling along at .00000000000001 kph, but I am determined to finish it before Christmas.
Oh, yeah--Christmas. That scares the holy hell out of me this year. None of our relatives are coming out from abroad this year. And Cousin Lisa--who always used to do every family and holiday related thing with us at our house--is still stuck in Florida trying to sell her house. Big Sis#2 always ditches Mum and me for Dad. We can't go home to Ireland like we always used to because now that Granny is dead, there's no home to go to.
Mum's idea to go away somewhere and pretend Christmas isn't happening is starting to appeal to me. But then again, if my Christmas Spirit dies, I'm not sure what that's going to do to my psyche. I just want a house full of people for Christmas. :(
......anyone out there in the NY/NJ area? Want to come for Christmas??
I feel like I'm fading away. Like a light, getting dimmer and dimmer until it finally goes out.