I've gone for several days without antidepressants now. Not because I've gone off them, but because I ran out and my job and life and all that crap hasn't given me the time to go and renew my prescription.So now I'm feeling all ... I dunno .. despondent .. like .... FUCK EVERYTHING IS WRONG AND I WANT EVERYONE TO DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE FUCK I CAN'T TYPE HARD ENOUGH AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGH I'M GOING TO DROWN MYSELF NOW.
No, just kidding. But I am feeling out-of-sorts. Dizzy, almost. Emotional, too. I'm getting misty-eyed during tender TV sitcom moments. It's embarrassing.
I don't want to take antidepressants forever. In fact, now might be the time to start weening myself off ... but this isn't weening, this is going from maximum dose to NOTHING. So I need to get to the drugstore, and fast. I feel like a warm, gooey, sticky ball of emotions, and it's really not doing much for me.
In other news, I was just told today that I'll be put on staff full time now at the store. I have to go in early tomorrow so my manager can talk to me and work out the details. If this involves a pay increase, then it's good news. If not, then I may have to quit. It's not a terrible job, it just pays terribly. If my salary were any lower I'd be paying them to work. Seriously. I am Retail Whore Extraordinaire.
That wasn't even funny. "Retail Whore Extraordinaire". What the hell. I say the dumbest shit. I need to just not say things, ever. I need a spokesperson like celebrities have. I'd just get them to say "Lara isn't commenting on the situation" no matter what. I could say it myself, but referring to myself in the third person like that might make me sound a little self-important.
Again ... not funny.
Right now Milo is pressing his furry little rat tummy up against the cage bars with that "play with me, please" look on his face. An excellent excuse for me to stop typing while in such an unpleasant, self-critical mood.
Goodnight.
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