Diphtheria still exists? Who knew?

Facebook Rebound Anxiety 
Did you know that i hate coming up with titles for blog posts? I do and that is why this blog post is titled as it is. I fucking hate that shit and feel a low level of anxiety when I have to title them usually. Even if I am writing a single tract about something specific, I still feel pressure and annoyance about the title because all I can think is "I am the only one who reads this and if anyone wanders in, fuck them, I've done the work of writing the post, I'm not spending an inordinate amount of time coming up with a title to draw them in." Who checks out a blog, reads the title of a post, and thinks "Mmmm, no, not for me. I think I'll check out something else"? In that case, I could just title all posts with things like "Candy does anal for the first time" or "Naughty school girl is whomped from both ends by professors". But, quite frankly, I don't ever need to know that I've developed a long time reader who was looking for that sort of thing.

So what was I going to talk about when I started this? Hmm, I actually don't remember. Oh, right! Guilt brought on by perfectly normal and acceptable feelings. Here is a transcript of a status update I placed on Facebook, along with the two comments I put right after I posted it:

Original Post
My neurologist told me that an oral medication (i.e., a pill) may be coming on the market soon, one that has been in use in Germany for years for the treatment of Psoriasis that also works on multiple sclerosis. I'm hesitant to take anything that hasn't been tested for years but frankly, I'm tired of these god damned shots. All I can really say is hats off to the diabetics of this world who inject themselves multiple times a day. And yes, I know, I'm fucking lucky. I don't have cancer and don't have to deal with grueling chemo but I'm not acting like my world is fucked because I have to give myself a shot and, let's face it, we all bitch when we have flu or a head cold. So no "it could be worse" or "consider yourself lucky" comments please. I'm sorry, I just really don't like the site reactions from my daily injections, even though I love that this drug will most likely help me.

First Comment
Dude, what PC bug got into my brain that I can't complain without explaining that I know I'm lucky and asking people to treat me with a modicum of understanding and respect because I know I'm being a dick? If I were run over by a car and complained about the effects, I'd probably say "look, I know I'm lucky to be alive, but all these broken bones and internal damages suck'"

Second Comment

My point is, yes, I know it could be worse, a lot worse. I could live n Syria, in Homs. Hell, I could live in Homs and have MS or cancer or something awful. But I can't help it. The shots are killing me and so I complain about my discomfort. But I am the first to acknowledge how lucky I am. OK, I'm done. I'm not justifying this any more. I probably should have just written this in my real life journal but I'm not deleting shit. See, I'm letting you use me as a "yeah! I totally get it! Thank you for expressing asshole selfishness so I don't have to." This was, essentially, a PSA. And you're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to put Aquafor on my injection site..

We live in the world of Youtube and reality stars and that shit. And we look at these people like, "what the fuck are you complaining for?" Social media has really proved us to be self centered assholes and I, apparently, have taken that to heart. Part of me thinks that yes, I have a legitimate reason to complain because I have MS and we don't understand it fully so that sucks. But I can't just think that, I have to think about how lucky I am and how much worse it could be and so I end up feeling like a dick for feeling anything less than orgasmic about my treatment.

It may be time for me to get off Facebook.

Working for the Weekend

From now on, any time anyone asks me what I’m going to do this weekend, I’m making shit up. “Do you have any plans this weekend” is one of my least favorite questions because I feel a weird pressure and shame when no, no I do not have any plans this weekend beyond drinking myself silly, pretending I’m going to  clean and do chores, and regret not doing anything better with my time off from work.  I mean, if you are a really good friend of mine, I’ll just say “no, read, chores, the usual” but if I don’t know you well, I’m going to fucking lie. Maybe I’ll say I’m going to work on my novel, purposely using an ambiguous statement so that it sounds like I mean I’ll work on writing one rather than reading one. Or maybe I’ll say I’m going to do some interpretive dance and then I’ll just play Just Dance 4 on my Wii. Or, or! Maybe I’ll just say something like “mind your own fucking business” or “masturbate incessantly” in order to make my inquisitor uncomfortable.

I mean, really, do you give a fuck about what I’m doing this weekend? No, no you don’t. It’s like asking “how are you” when we pass in the halls. “Well, I’m fucked up about the relationship I have with my ‘estranged husband’, I’m terrified about my financial situation, and I am having trouble finding places to give myself my daily shot” isn’t what you want to hear. You want to here “fantastic!” and so that is what I usually say (actually, I usually say “awesome”). Asking me for weekend plans is different. I either say “no” or “yes” without offering details. And the stupid thing is that if you ask me on Monday how my weekend was, I always, without fail, pause because I can’t remember. It isn’t that I actually did drink myself silly, it’s that I probably didn’t do anything noteworthy and so I can’t remember but I feel pressured to say something. 

I have a feeling that lots of people don't do anything with every single weekend but look forward to just not going to work. Maybe they don't all start drinking Chardonnay at noon whilst working on a puzzle (not that I do that regularly or anything, but I have done and it was fun), but I can't be some special brand of loser who just likes not having to get up early and being able to skip a day of showering. Granted, when I do have plans or I do actually do something, I get super excited. Like when Upstairs Kid invited me to his 21st birthday party thing. Remember that? I felt like I was a proper person and was all excited about going out and being young and normal. And then I got shit faced and, well, that blog post speaks for itself. 

But I do get excited when I have plans. When Hunter was coming to town I looked forward to it and I cleaned my place and was just really super happy. It wasn't even that I had plans, just that I was going to get to see my friend again. Actually, I think what I felt was along the same lines as a twelve year old who looks forward to a sleepover with her best friend. Do you remember doing that? It was always rad because you got to just hang out for hours and talk about all sorts of stuff. That's how I love Hunter, like we are twelve year old best friends and I get super stoked if and when we can have play dates.

And if I don't have any plans, I'm cool with that for the most part. I'm wiped out right now, or, to be more precise, I'm peopled out. Hunter was in town so I hung out with him and made the most of our time together. Then, on Wednesday, I went to a Broad Summit with chicks from work and had a great time. But I'm not usually that social and with all of that coupled with the higher than usual volume of phone calls at work and that client meeting, by the time Friday afternoon rolled around, I was ready to be left the fuck alone. 

That was a very long-winded way of saying "I don't like polite chitchat" wasn't it?