Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers


it is no fun having vastly different taste in music than Doc. And he’s so gracious and listens to mine constantly so when he asks to listen to his, there is no way I would say no to him. And his music makes me want to go for a long walk.

I’m in a “can’t do anything right” mode right now and I want to crawl into a hole. A nice, comfy hole that’s deep and far away.

I just outlasted my medications. As in I didn’t give into them and go to sleep. I drank coffee and made myself stay awake. And now I’m feeling more awake.

I’ve noticed a problem with my balance the last couple of days. Doc thinks it’s just when I take the Seroquel because it makes me stumble around. But it isn’t as severe as the Seroquel stumbles. But I’ll go along with him. Hell, I have no idea what my meds should do to me. Once I get back online I can look up Cymbalta and see what the side effects are besides nausea (which hasn’t happened to me) and drowsiness (which I don’t notice since I take it before bed).

“When I get back online” seems to be coming up a lot. I didn’t care at fist because I’m not on it every day and I can go without email for a few days. But as the days go on, I realize all the things I rely on the internet for. Gathering information. And I need my information. What good is the news if I have no blogs to explain it to me in any spin I desire?

. . . I cleaned the cat box, did the ironing, started the laundry and tidied both Doc’s rooms and mine. Doc is out running errands. I wanted to have some things done before he got home. He’s been in a bad mood and I’m trying in the small ways that I can to make him happy. That’s what marriage is all about, right? One partner helping the other and vice versa.

I also found a pair of Doc’s shorts to wear. He’s right, of course, I feel much better in shorts than I do in my camouflage pants or my jeans. I just don’t like my legs showing.

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