The other day my boyfriend asked me why I didn't have a journal, diary, or other similar project. I don't really remember what I replied, but it probably goes along the lines of "oh, well, I'm just too inconsistent". I might try to write here and there, but whatever.
A lot has been going on. I am hating my job with a passion (again). It seems that I will never find a job that I actually even slightly enjoy, and doesn't cause me to break out in anxiety attacks every other day. Which brings me to another topic: I have a new shrink. I actually like this one, she's quiet and doesn't talk down to me. I'm currently taking Buspar and Adderall, in low doses, and they seem to be working OK (it's only been a month, so more on that later I guess). I had to have my Buspar (anxiety med.) dose upped , because of the anxiety attacks at work. To top it all off, my parents switched our medical insurance (again) without me knowing anything, and this new crap-tastic one does not cover my Adderall or contraceptives. So I must keep my job, then, to be able to pay for the medication. The joy!
School is supposed to start again in about a week, I'm excited for it and at the same time I'm totally freaking out. I haven't finished doing the enrollment procedure for this semester, so I guess I must go next week at the soonest moment possible or risk having to sit out this semester. I need a backpack, and I need to sharpen my knives. I find making lists helps, a lot. Also doing recaps at the end of the day, of whatever I actually did or got accomplished, is very, very helpful.
Today I gave my dog a bath, always an adventure by itself. *sigh* . She's a pretty hyper two-year-old (wow, two, already. I got her at three months old. Time flies. ) who, as I suspect many other dogs do, hates baths. But the downstairs dogs are completely flea infested and thus, so is my dog and my cats, and she keeps scratching and it drives me to the edge of insanity and back. So, bathtime it was. I tried playing tug-of-war with her towel before taking her into the bathtub (more like shower stall, actually), which resulted in her just peeing all over my bedroom floor. Luckily, there was another towel on the floor nearby, and I just placed it over the mess and continued with the procedure. She behaved pretty well while said bath was being given, but as soon as I was done she just ran all over the bathroom like a chicken with its head cut off (or a dog who's just had an undesired bath), getting everything wet in the process. Right now she's lying on my bed next to me as I type, shell-shocked. I'll give her a treat later and she'll love me again.
Dogs are so easy.