No Rest For The Wicked is Not Just An Ozzy Osbourne Album

Again last night. Sleepy and exhausted by 6:30 p.m. Get the spawn to bed. Curl up under warm covers. Purring kitty on my chest. And…BAM. Thoughts start spinning. How does that even work, to go from super sleepy to wide awake in ten flipping minutes? So I took .25 Xanax just to calm down my spinning brain. And as I began to nod off…Nope, bladder beckoned. Back to bed…Half hour. No sleep. Then the phone rings. More Hillary-is-the-devil-Trumo-is-God ranting from R, who damn well knew I had no voice at all yesterday other than a  rasp then wonders why I don’t have much to say to his call/rant.

More tossing turning, only now I am truly irked because I’d already gotten my fill of the political crap when my kid came home and informed me that her friends from 24 (who are black) say that Trump hates black people and wants to turn them all into slaves again. Hmmm…Personally, I think Trump and Clinton hate everyone who isn’t green, as in rich like them.

More groaning and sitting up in frustration, cos sleep wasn’t happening. Then my sister called. Then my mom called from her brother’s hospital bedside. He’s in agony, the morphine isn;t helping, and he went into surgery at 7 this morning for the aneurysm causing all the agony (ya know, cos the bone cancer and all is pretty minor.) Five days they’ve had him on hold knowing the surgery could alleviate the pain but because of his age and the chemo compromising everything, they didn’t want to risk it. Understandable but damn…mom’s not been home in 5 nights, she’s got my sister running clothes up to her which is a 75 mile round trip, and the man is getting worse instead of better and in agony.

Nothing good ever comes from phone calls or doctors.

It was ten thirty by the time I broke. Took a melatonin, even though we are down to four pills between two people the rest of the week. (I could take Trazadone or Restoril but I’d be comatose or hungover with that shit.) Just as I was starting to settle in…My kid trudged in whining to sleep in my bed. Her room is way warmer than mine and yet…she wants in my bed with the springs poking through the mattress. She jabbered. She complained. She kept me awake longer by making me more anxious.

It was after midnight before I slept. Then I woke up six times during the night, checking the clock, seeing how much longer before I had to face another day. Because now that it is colder and the clock’s are setting back thus getting dark way earlier…My body thinks darkness means sleepy time so if I look out and see it’s dark, I assume it’s time for sleep. Imagine my anger when the alarm goes off announcing it’s 7 a.m. I am NOT diurnal.

I still don’t have much of a voice today. I don’t know if it’s from last week’s hacking and drowning in sinus drainage or spending all weekend refereeing kids’ bickering but I sound like a raspy frog. The more I try to rest my voice, the more those around me seem to want to make me talk. Assholes.

The other night, R came by to watch a movie. Invited himself, cos I coulda told him I was in cramp misery and not conducive. Instead of watching the movie, he played on his goddamn phone. Then went into more election bullshit and when I said, “I hate them both so let’s agree to disagree…” He called me stupid and refused to speak to me for fifteen minutes. In my own home. Yep. That’s what this election has done. Turned otherwise mature intelligent people into petulant little kids just like Trump.

Trump, Hillary, it’s all gun, knife, noose. Choose the least painful way to die and your tormentors will just go with the most painful way, fuck you.

Let it be over with before it destroys my friendship with R. I’d like my car exhaust repaired before I have to tell him to fuck off.

I am shallow that way, but damn it, what do you do with someone who absolutely refuses to let you have your own opinion contrary to theirs? And it’s not like I am even saying “this is better than that”. I am saying I DON’T LIKE EITHER OF THEM BECAUSE POLITICIANS ARE ALL SOCIOPATHS.

Except for Trey Gowdy, I’m pretty sure he’s just a straight shooter who’d make an absolutely wondermous president.

Yeah, yeah, for someone who hates politics, I reference it alot these days. It’s like puking up what’s been forcefed to me.

That being said…I am gonna go back to watching Flashpoint and wait to hear how my uncle’s surgery went. And lucky me, I have a three cat concerto going on here of Lemmy, Sylvester, and Cleopatra noisily grooming themselves. Or cannibalizing their own flesh.

Weird ass cats.

 

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3 Responses to “No Rest For The Wicked is Not Just An Ozzy Osbourne Album”

  1. How many mg of melatonin do you take? My pdoc said I could start taking it to help me sleep but he told me to only take 3mg. So I bought the extra strength 3mg tablet and it still took me until 2am to fall asleep last night. Driving me fucking crazy!

    Oh and I’m sorry R won’t leave you alone with all the election talk. I do the same thing where I tell people i don’t want to say anything and then they still force fee their opinions on me. Ugghhhh….Can you whack him across the head yet?

    • 3 mg Melatonin. Doc never said anything about going up, especially since insurance won’t cover any sleep meds now.

      I’m waiting to play whack an arsehole til after my car exhaust is fixed. Or I keep telling myself that but I do not have the patience of a saint.

      On Tue, Oct 25, 2016 at 1:32 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:

      >

  2. I don’t discuss politics with anyone. Because people cannot be cool. People cannot listen to an opinion and say “Interesting, I hadn’t thought of it like that before”. No, people have to go all nutty and tell you the millions of ways that you are wrong. No thank you.

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