Jul
18
2010

This Is Your Brain. This Is Your Brain On Drugs. Any Questions?

I have no idea why I thought of this but this is by far one of my favorite commercials ever.  I find it fucking hilarious.  I mean, it’s the absolute cheesiest commercial ever and I know I have a vast readership (I’ve always wanted to say that) from around the world of various ages so you might have missed out on this precious gem.  It was huge in the 80′s and made fun of constantly by kids everywhere.

I’m pretty sure it explains a lot about me.

So yeah.  Everyone’s been all like “What the fuck’s with your constant random?” and I’ve been like “Why the fuck not?”.  I spent so much time just telling stories and I have a zillion more to tell but for a while there I decided to kind of have a moderate point to some of my posts.  For the time being,  I’m allowing my mind to wander around because my mind likes to take walks through the forrest in my head and I’m unwinding through writing.

I hate noise while I’m writing. I seriously shouldn’t even write this now because my kids are loud and the dishwasher is going.  I have no idea who turned the dishwasher on.  No (illegal) drugs here. Not for a long time.  I blame my recent narcotics allergy as punishment for all the fun I had from the time I was about 14 until I was about 24 (ish. Pre-kids).  After I had Jake we found out that some shit they gave me made me itch like I just rolled through poison ivy.  I’ve never actually even had poison ivy but I’ve seen people miserable so I’m just going to roll with that.

Then I had a boob reduction.  They send me home with Demerol and it took me a solid three days of pretty much taking a fork to my flesh to stop the itching.  That’s when my doc was all like “You are completely and totally fucked from this point forward.”

That was a treat.  Now all the legally post-op happy fun stuff (think pretty much all of 2009) that was in my repertoire of mind numbing happiness from my early years is permanently lost to me.

I seriously shouldn’t be writing right now.  I have no writing mojo, no patience and spell checker is going balls-out on me but it’s raining and I’m not hitting the pool so I’m getting all my shit done early.  It’s Sunday.  I’m just going to have this post on Monday.

I forgot to take all my meds yesterday.  I probably should have mentioned that at the start.  That explains a lot about my mood. I’m bipolar and I have no reproductive organs.  I’m cool with the lack of lady parts because I’m done having kids but the menopause makes me want to beat the shit out of something. I’m being randomly set on fire and keep pressing myself against my fridge just to try to cool off.  All noise makes me want to yell at people and there is A LOT of noise surrounding me.  I hate forgetting meds.  I can’t just double up. I take some serious shit so now it’s going to be like a week before my body regulates and I hope on all that is holy that this mood bolts because I could lose about 73.5% of my friends. That’s about at least two people and one who’s like, “Yeah.  She’ll get over it.”

Okay. So I’m going to stop writing now. SUPER glad I have a new dart board.  Locking myself in my garage to go balls-out drilling the darts into my garage wall because I’m pretty shitty at locating the actual board when I play.  I expect my dad to make fun of me shortly.  I love my dad.  I say that a lot but he makes me giggle.  I also should proof some shit I wrote today because I just realized that YouTube video above is pretty accurate in my case today.

…Yeah. Proofing was a good idea.  I have no fucking idea how I managed to write the review I slammed out and scheduled without thinking of proofing.  It is a bad ass product though.  I also proofed it.  Twice.  I probably should again before it goes live.  I probably won’t.  Stupid fucking bipolar menopause.

Written by Julie Maloney in: depression

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