A Recipe for Baneful Bitchiness...

What I hope to see in the morning!

I told Charlie yesterday that if I have a little oversight then all his cleaning will stay clean. I told this to my father as well last night.  Well, Charlie stopped by tonight to check my bathroom and kitchen which he worked so hard to clean after my feeble efforts were met with a milquetoast and blase reception.

"Looking good!" he told me looking in both rooms.

He peered into the fridge as well.

"Your lemon meringue pie looks delicious," he said.

Then Charlie told me he was in a terrible mood and so was Horsefly who was currently at the bowling alley. Thankfully, I am sensitive about such matters and he didn't direct any bitchiness towards me.

"The weather is just deplorable and Horsefly didn't want to eat his supper. I sat in the drive-thru line at KFC for 30 minutes to get his chicken strips," Charlie furthered.

Papa's just left as well. He just missed Charlie by 15 minutes. He was bringing me my diet Cokes and my cigarettes. The Cokes were just ice cold from sitting in his car all day which added a nice perk to the evening. It's cold here!

"Now, you try to conserve those cigarettes," he told me. "They are godawful expensive."

Dad pays for all my cigarettes. He says disability money shouldn't be spent on addictions and he is right. I agree.

"Let me look at your bathroom," he said, "Looking good and let's keep it this way."

There is Also a Recipe For Snow...

The ultra-conservative National Weather Service is saying we might just get an inch, but The Weather Channel says no. Right now the temperature is 39° degrees which doesn't look so promising. The Weather Service said we should change over to snow about 4 am in the morning and snow all day tomorrow.

From Bushes to Home -- A Cat's Journey...

Jeez, it is RAW outside. It is 39° degrees and raining. I was spurred on my journey to Papa's house by the temptations of Cokes, Cigarettes, and a home-cooked meal. Dad was smart tonight about not having to brave this weather and deliver the goods. He called me and asked me to come over.

As I pulled into the driveway, dad's cat, Samantha, came running out of the bushes trying to stay dry and followed me inside. Dad had the heat on high and it hit me like sticking my head in a furnace when I walked in the door. Samantha crashed on the floor in front of my father's gas heater in the den thoroughly enjoying the heat.

"That heat is like crack to kitties," I told my father,

It took a minute for him to realize what I was saying.

"Oh, like crack the drug," he replied laughing. "I'll have to remember that."

Dad had cooked pork chops and rice. One of my favorite dishes of his and there was plenty left over after he ate supper. He had a big care package for me all bagged up and ready to go.

"I hate to go so fast, but I want to eat these chops while they are still hot," I told my father. "So, I am going to head on."

My father told me he didn't blame me and hugged me goodbye.

"Enjoy your supper," he said as I shut the back door.

I drove like a teenager heading home. I would goose the throttle until the on-demand AWD would kick in and stop my front wheels from spinning on the wet pavement -- ever mindful of my mirrors and if there were any cops around.

This and That…

• Well, it is safe to say that most of you think anonymous comments are a bad idea. I will leave them off for most likely permanently. If you want to comment, then sign up for a Google account.

• Stacey asked me to help her get out of debt last night. I was overjoyed to help – often worrying about her tendency to frivolously charge items on her many credit cards. She loves to shop for clothes and jewelry online. I told her it is going to take probably a year, but we could do it.

• Mom called me last night complaining about dad’s obsessive football watching habits. I smiled. I don’t much care for watching the games, but I will keep up with the scores on ESPN.com.  Dad and my brother are just fanatical about it, though.

• I cooked mom’s spaghetti last night and it was delicious. I made a salad with a balsamic vinaigrette and toasted some barbecue bread. Stacey has decided this is her favorite recipe of mom’s.

• Stacey is in the bed at the moment with Caramel and Sadie. Maggie got up with me and is lying on the bed in my computer room. She insists on staying in any room I am in. She is my constant companion with Caramel being more aloof about such things.

• I was overjoyed tonight when I found out how to change the resolution on my HDTV to it’s non-native resolution. I have it hooked up to my computer as my main monitor and this gives me extremely much more screen real estate. I was so happy and it is like having a whole new computer.

• I am passingly listening to Coast to Coast AM at the moment. They are talking about some “monkey virus” and the death of Sonny Bono not being an accident. I am not entirely interested in tonight’s program, but listen out of habit.

• I am still enjoying my iPad. I had to yank it out of Stacey’s hands last night as we lay in the bed browsing. I am going to buy her one for Christmas. She loves it. It is really great for just browsing the web, which is mainly what I normally do. I use my laptop and main computer to update the blog.

• I spent a long time yesterday putting together another second hand computer out of parts I had lying around. I’ve got it connected wirelessly in the den where I can stream the music off my 2 terabyte drive in my main computer to my surround system in that other room. Stacey says I am obsessed with computers just like my ex-wife always used to say. 

• I am trying to decide what I want for Christmas. I have $500 dollars to spend. I am thinking a new digital surround system for my computer and a new sound card. I listen to most of my music through my computer these days.

• I mowed two lawns for $50 dollars late yesterday afternoon. It was just sweltering, though. I was glad to finish and get home to start supper and see Stacey.

• I am about to drive over to get my six diet Cokes for the day. This is one of the more pleasing ritruals I experience everyday. I love the early morning drive as I listen to the CD du jour.  

• I was toying with the idea of quitting taking my Risperdal. I am on only 2mg per night now.  I was on 8 1/2 miligrams at one point. I feel it makes me feel tired and fatigued. I just want to be off all these medications. As my medication levels continue to drop, I feel better and better as each week passes. I can be so impatient.

I’m Fine With Overtime…

I left George’s last night to bring my cable box and digital video recorder to dad. He was happy.

“This will cut your cable bill in half,” he told me as we put the boxes into his car. “I will continue to let the pharmacy pay for it. I get a discount on my business plan for having my residential accounts on it as well.”

“I don’t watch much TV,” I replied. “Just let me keep my faster level of Internet service.”

He agreed.

I thought we had a no overtime policy at work. I guess it only applied to non-associates. They wanted me to work last night and I was happy to get the extra money. I am making more money than I know what to do with with my disability subsidizing all my living costs. I have a lot of expendable income these days and it is all getting squirreled away for a future possible emergency. I am following my psychiatrist’s and therapist’s advice about that.

Work was routine. I spent a lot of time stocking the shelves again last night.  We got a bunch of new video games in and I took a long time reading the boxes as I put them away curiously. I so wish I could play video games again. I used to play with a passion and could play for hours every day. I am still fascinated by them, but as soon as I start to play, I grow bored easily. I guess I am finally growing up.

Jim was off last night and I missed him. I did have one lady who runs one of the point of sales up front come back and buy a new cellphone. She was very nice and very pretty. I had to restrain myself from flirting.  

As soon as I walked into the house after work, my cellphone rang. It was mom. She was fretting over my diet sodas she gives me every day.

“I got Judy to order you cases of diet Coke now that you are drinking caffeine again,” she told me. “We had a hard time ordering the diet Sprite so that will work well.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

“What about your anxiety?” mom asked. “Doesn’t the caffeine affect you?”

“I haven’t had much anxiety for about a week now,” I told her.

“That is just wonderful, Jonathon,” mom replied. “I wish I could get my anxiety under control. I had the most awful panic attack yesterday.”

Mom has been putting little treats in my sack of cokes she gives me every day.  Yesterday, she put a box of Cheez-Its. My favorite snack. The day before was some beef jerky for Maggie and Caramel. Dad would never do these kinds of things and I appreciate it very much. Mom is so thoughtful. 

Well, I need to get out this afternoon and mow some lawns. It has been so dry lately that most of my business has dried up with it as well. I have a few clients that just want me to weed eat and do some general shaping up. My own lawn is just about dead from such a dry summer. It is brown and dormant. I am off tonight and look forward to a night of just goofing off and generally doing nothing, but staying on the Internet and listening to four hours of Coast to Coast AM. Stacey is also staying the night as well and I will get us up a good supper. She wanted to go out to eat, but I persuaded her into letting me defrost and for us to have mom’s spaghetti. I am so looking forward to that. I hope you all are having a great weekend and I will check in again tonight. I have lots of time to write tonight and it should prove interesting.

Regarding the Sunset Brews and my Aggressive Unusual Behavior…

This seems to be this biggest source of contention with my readers on the blog these days – my drinking of my nightly sunset brews.  I have received more well intentioned advice and concern on this subject than more than anything in years.  I am trying to emulate the homeless Albert Vanderburg's nightly routine on Waikiki beach of this same ritual.  If you’ve known me for long, then you know I love rituals and routines. I also tend to romanticize the homeless lifestyle, and this routine seems so masculine, worldly, and helplessly homelessly romantic to me.  George will love reading about it in the blog posts I am mailing him each day.  He will live vicariously through my words and I have him in mind many nights when I drink them.  We both lived a pseudo homeless existence for the time we hung out down at the shopping center years ago every day. 

I try to tell myself that at the height of my drinking career, I was drinking 24 beers a day and that my drinking now is entirely mild compared to then.  I am not concerned at all.  I would basically crack open a beer back then when I awoke and would go to bed with an open beer on my night stand.  Maybe I am in denial, but two beers a night is a far cry from my olden days.  I was a miserable human being then.  Terribly disturbed mentally and emotionally.  The only time I have been happy and a heavier drinker was when I was hanging out with George and the gang down at the Piggly Wiggly everyday.  George could be a bad influence on me in those regards and most mornings would find us drinking ice beer as we talked, smoked cigars, and would shoot the shit as George like to say for hours.  I was a happy social drinker then.  Not the solitary “alcoholic” who sat at home drinking 24 beers a day in pain.  Or that sad individual who was grasping in pain at absolution by drinking mouthwash when my father cut the money off and gained power of attorney over me. I realize now most of my drinking resulted from a experience of a  supreme feeling of hurt, guilt, and despair.  Now? I like to have a drink to feel good and enjoy myself.  Not subdue all that distress I was experiencing.

Where will this lead me?  Only time will tell.  Some could say I am playing with fire.  I feel I am just being a pretty average Joe drinking a few beers after a hard day’s work.

One thing I am learning lately, though, is to take chances and be aggressive with my life and behavior. This also means living with gusto and doing things that make me feel good. For years, I have sat quietly at home, cocooned in safety, bored to tears, and acquiescing to my parent’s biddings of how I should live my life.   Now?  I am taking risks by returning to work.  By flirting with women at work when my social anxieties scream in retaliation.  By starting my own business when the odds of success are stacked against me due to my disability and my anxiety issues.  I feel as if I have awoken from some deep strange nightmare like some modern day Rip Van Winkle.  Like I wrote the other day, I better get busy living instead of dying.  And I was slowly dying emotionally and mentally in my previous life just a short few weeks ago and I was sober as a judge.

My thoughts often turn back to Kevin “The Homeless Guy” Barbieux and his life’s experiences he wrote about on his blog for years.  He’s brilliantly smart, but he doesn’t take chances or risks.  He won’t work a regular job saying it depresses him.  I am finding work the exact opposite.  It is invigorating.  This “depression” has kept him homeless for most of his adult life – safely sleeping in rescue missions and using the Internet all day.  He will claim it is a hard life being homeless always playing the victim, but it’s not that bad I learned from my own experiences.  It was cold, but you have zero responsibility and your pretty much get to do what you want when you want to.   How bad can spending all day on the Internet be and not having to work?

We were a lot alike until I decided I no longer wanted be that sick dependent victim.  I had to assert myself and take chances.  I had to think out of the box and it has been extremely uncomfortable for me to do in a way.  I am pushing boundaries and testing limits.  I was miserable, but I had everything to make life existential as far as the basics were concerned.  A home.  A car.  Nutritious food. Dubious if adequate mental healthcare.  All my financial affairs were handled by my father.  My bills were paid for me.  What was lacking is that I wasn’t living.  I was just existing.  I think Mr. Barbieux has fallen into this trap for most of his life.  He’s just existing like he has done for most of his adult existence.  I don’t want to seem overly harsh in my criticism of him, but I’ve often used him as my Atlas Marker for how not to live life.  I’ve learned a lot from following him on the Internet over the years. You can play the sick victim and be the valiant sociopolitical and religious Internet critic, but it isn’t going to pay the bills and it certainly isn’t going to do much for your self esteem or emotional wellbeing when all is said and done.  You just end up some lonely guy sitting in a McDonald’s with a laptop railing against society, government, and Christianity.

Well, it is 2am and I am writing yet another long blog post having driven over to get my six diet Cokes and they invigorated me.  I often like to write the most early in the morning as I smoke and drink my nightly Cokes mom puts out for me.  I better get on the couch, get some sleep, and get ready for work in the morning.  I am excited about starting a new week.  I keep telling myself that if I can make it through working for 30 days then I will  have made a healthy habit out of it.  Please wish me luck!  I need your help and encouragement.  I know I’ve written a positive blog this past week, but it’s been a hard row to hoe for me.  I am really pushing the envelope as far as my abilities are concerned.  My life has taken on a complete upheaval in just two weeks time.  And it feels good despite all the discomfort and pain caused by changing my life so drastically so suddenly. Good night.     

It’s Business as Usual…

It’s business as usual for mom as far as I am concerned.  She called me this evening and told me to come get my diet Cokes.  I told her I could pay for my own now, but she insisted on us sticking to our routines.  “I like doing it for you,” she said. “I don’t have much to do in my life.  I like the routines.”  She also bought me more of my drink mixes and left them on my kitchen counter sometime today along with another giant jar of creamy Kroger peanut butter.  I am sure Maggie was thrilled at seeing her.  Her only frets are my disability and she is obsessing over that.  She says they are going to review my eligibility to return to work full time.  I told her that was against the law and one of the good things Clinton did when he was in office.  They can’t punish you for returning to work part time.   It will not trigger a review.  Mom will still fret, though.  It is her nature to do so.  She frets about absolutely everything these days. 

I am $75 dollars richer this evening as we speak.  I earned every damn penny of it.  That was one physically taxing job.  I am glad it is finished!  It came up a cloud at one point as my grandmother would always say and I sat in my car listening to NPR until it passed.  You could see the sun while it was raining and my grandmother would always say the devil was beating his wife with a frying pan.  One nice thing about the rain was that it really cooled the temperatures off as I finished the job late this afternoon. 

The man wants me to come back Sunday to trim the shrubbery on the front and sides of his house for $25.  I told him I had to work all day tomorrow at my regular job and that’s why I couldn’t do it sooner.  I also told him we were going to get his yard in tip top shape if he just keeps paying me good money.  He laughed and offered me a beer.  I laughed as well feeling good about the whole affair.  I couldn’t drink, though, as I was driving.  His lawn needs mowing so I hope he will ask me to do that next. 

Sunset found me in the park which is quickly growing to be one of my favorite places to be in the evenings.  I was glad the days of the nightly medication ritual are finally over.  Maggie will miss dad’s visits, though. She loves him dearly and so do I. Dad will never just come over to my house to visit with me like mom will, though.  I have to go see him.  Dad always made me a nervous wreck every night during that medication ritual. That’s one less bit of anxiety I have to deal with at the end of the day. 

The late evening cicadas were singing and it made feel lonely for some strange reason tonight. I am usually enthralled by their singing.  I’ve really been longing for a companion this week feeling eligible for the first time in years.  I eventually would like to get married again and possibly have kids.  That would have never ever happened if I stayed on my previous course in life.  Who wants to marry a guy who can’t even support himself or make basic decisions about his life?  I find myself thinking of what would make me enticing to a mate.  A nice home.  A good car.  Decent looks.  A job.  Money.  Sanity.  All pieces to a puzzle I am slowly putting together. 

A couple of black boys were playing basketball on the court and talking jovially.  One kept bragging that he could shoot better than the other and the other protested vehemently.  I smiled as I listened to their banter and drank the single solitary Steel Reserve, my sunset brew, I bought tonight at the convenience store.  I bought only one as a concession to my blog readers and friends who care. I am really not an alcoholic and can drink one or two beers and be satisfied.   I no longer feel the pain and anguish these days that stirred me to drink with wanton abandon all those years ago. 

The Entrepreneur…

“A little nigger boy named Jerry usually cuts my grass, but I haven’t seen him in what seems like ages,” my elderly neighbor who lives the street over from mine told me this afternoon. “My yard is looking pretty bad. It’s growing embarrassing.  I was hoping he would show up any day now.  He cuts my grass for $10 dollars. I just can’t do it myself at my age. The heat gets to me when I try.  I thought I was going to have to hire one of those expensive yard services.”

I was riding around the neighborhood on my raucous riding lawn mower looking for work. That thing is so very loud and obnoxious – the muffler heavily rusted and corroded. I know my neighbors hate me now.  My first purchase for my new lawn care business will be a new muffler.   I saw her yard which was overgrown and stopped to ask if she would like for me to cut it.  It was the only promising looking yard after riding down several streets.  Why do my neighbors have to be so fastidious about mowing their lawns? lol  I wanted to see train wrecks in need of yard care and mowing.  I will head over to the poorer neighborhood a few blocks over tomorrow.  They tend to have messier yards, but probably less money.  I will give it a good shot and a try, though.

“How much are you asking?” she asked warily as she eyed me carefully at her front door. She kept having to try and keep her cats inside which tried their best to escape through the open door. It was kind of comical. I smiled.

“$15 dollars,” I replied not wanting to push my luck with $20 dollars. I was afraid she would say no and I really needed the money. Jerry had me undercut by 5 bucks.  Her yard was pretty small as well.  I never was a good business man unlike my brother or father. Dad would’ve gotten $20 dollars for the job with his charm, wit, and people skills.  “I just want ten dollars to eat out with tonight at Rodger’s Barbecue and five dollars for the gas I used today looking for work.”

“I’ll pay you when you finish,” she said with a nice, kind smile and shut the front door to escape back into the cool air conditioned confines of her home corralling her cats.  I could feel the cold air pouring out of her house as I stood on her front porch from the opened door as she spoke to me. It has been a hot and sultry July day.

I stood there planning my next course of action and watched mesmerized as the four cats sat in the front bay window of her house watching me intently as if I were some strange creature of great interest.  I then got busy cutting her grass – my only customer for the day after trying only part of the neighborhood. Most people I tried cut their own grass or they weren’t at home.  It was almost a disappointing endeavor if it hadn’t have been for this one kind elderly lady.  I should have ridden around longer and further afield, but I was worried about running out of gas and I didn’t have any money on me at the time to buy more.  I was pushing my luck gas-wise as each house proved fruitless. I had left my gas tank at home as well. I would never get that riding lawn mower back to my house by pushing it if it ran out of gas.  It is extremely heavy and cumbersome.

“Your John’s son!” she exclaimed with bright eyes of acknowledgement when I knocked on the door when I was finished.

“Yes ma’am,” I replied. “He’s my dad.”

“He’s a good man and a good pharmacist.  I used to trade with him for years and years.  My prescriptions are cheaper now at Wal-Mart, though.  I thought I recognized you. You worked down there for years I remember. I would always remember seeing you sweeping the front of the store.”

“Sweeping was one of my primary jobs,” I replied with a warm smile.

I certainly wouldn’t tell dad that about Wal-Mart! lol He grumbles about Wal-Mart’s pharmacy all the time stealing his business.  It is a small world and a small town, though. Dad knows everyone in the Valley. He is always well liked by everybody. I wasn’t surprised that she knew him. 

“Here’s your fifteen dollars,” the lady told me pulling the bills out of her well worn wallet. “It looks good. You did a good job. It didn’t take you very long either.”

“Thank you,” I replied relieved to have gotten paid at last with money in hand. “I really appreciate your business.  And thank you for being so kind.  You are treating me to a good meal tonight and gas to continue my business.”

“Well, you earned it dear.  Check back with me in a week or two, and if Jerry hasn’t come then I will let you cut it again.  I will probably feel more comfortable with you doing it anyway instead of Jerry since you’re John’s son.  I might want you to trim my shrubbery for $10 extra dollars as well. It needs shaping up badly.”

“Thank you! I will check back in a week!” I told her excitedly and got on my mower and drove down the street to home. I felt I had done enough for the day and didn’t want to push my luck as far as my anxiety is concerned.

I had the biggest, goofiest grin on my face as I drove down the street over the raucous din of my mower.  I looked like I had just won the lottery.  Persistence had paid off.  I had my first customer and I was going to get that barbeque plate at Rodger’s after all. 

I don’t know when Charlie is arriving tonight.  He works for a government agency in Dadeville and I am not sure if the government worked today or not.  If they did, then I probably won’t see him till eight or so.  I am looking forward to my peace inducing Klonopin after a very busy day. I want to take my medications and just meld into this Lazy Boy while I watch Bones in a medication induced stupor. My medications can make me feel so out of it at times for which I love feeling abnormal in a good way.  I will probably need to get my barbeque plate to-go just in case Charlie does come earlier.  Rodger’s closes at nine.  I plan on being there well before that. 

***** UPDATE *****

“Your uncle Charlie’s here!” Charlie said exuberantly after knocking on my door as he pushed what few hairs he has left on his head across his scalp as is his nervous habit to help cover his baldness. “I’ve brought you gifts!  Walk out to your dad’s truck and help me carry these boxes of magazines in.”

Charlie is constantly going to yard sales and estate sales.  He had been off work today after all.  At an estate sale, he had bought a complete collection of Model Railroader magazines from the 70’s and 80’s – all the magazines I had read in my youth.  I was overjoyed and so pleasantly surprised.  Charlie is such a kind and thoughtful soul.  I love him dearly.

“How much did this cost?” I asked worried. “Dad will pay you back out of my account.”

“I got them all for only $100 dollars,” Charlie said proud of his wheeling and dealing. “I saw them and just knew you would love them and had to have them.  They had more, but this was all I bought.  The elderly man who had owned the house had trains in his attic. I love trains as well when I don’t have to wait for them at crossings.”

Charlie burst out laughing at what he last said. I chuckled as well although I love to wait at crossings to watch a train. I consider it the only “sport” I care to watch.

“I will be reading for weeks!” I replied excitedly. “I already recognize some of these covers.  I wore these magazines out reading them when I was a kid.  I lost them all over the years or they just fell apart and mom threw them away.”

There must have been about ten boxes of magazines and we finally got them all inside my computer room on the floor.  My heart rate got increased from the heavy boxes and I told Charlie I had to take a break at one moment.  He brought me a cold diet Coke to calm me and I weakly laughed.  The last thing I needed when anxiety was at bay. Charlie just doesn’t understand how my anxiety works sometimes.  He means well, though. 

“We’re going to go get something to eat now,” Charlie said hugging me and urging me to the door. “Then we will take your medications when we get home and you can drink your diet Cokes for the night.  I know you have to have those diet Cokes.  That’s your favorite ritual.  You mother said to be sure you got them every night.  She about drove me crazy about them.”

Charlie and I drove to Arby’s and got our usual and favored #19 special.  We are both hooked on that meal. The sandwiches tonight were just packed with turkey and I could only eat half ever mindful of my bulimia.  Charlie and I laughed and laughed as we talked and ate our meals.  Charlie has such a dry, but good sense of humor.  His laughter was so contagious.  I will just have to save my Roger’s plate for tomorrow. 

“Are you going to watch Bones tonight?” I asked hoping he would.  I told him the times and the channel.  He has gotten hooked on the show along with dad.

“I will if you will,” he said.

“Then you are going to have to watch because I don’t miss an episode!”

We took my medications and now I have to wait about thirty minutes to an hour for them to take effect.  Charlie has left to go take care of a few things such as getting Horsefly’s nightly KFC chicken finger plate, then he is coming back over to watch Bones with me at eight. We have three episodes tonight and it will be a joy!  Charlie said he is only going to watch one episode, though, much to my chagrin.  He needs to go home before it gets too late. He really worries about Horsefly. I would really like the companionship tonight.  I don’t want him to go home.

Late Night Journeys…

I am slowly growing acclimated to staying up all night and sleeping in the afternoons. It has been a slow and gradual process as I still grow very sleepy in the evenings after taking my medications.  The urge to go to bed after dad leaves is very, very strong.  That 2mg of Klonopin no doubt the culprit as it can be such a sedative.  I love being a night owl though – a creature of the night.  I have missed this lifestyle so much loving the dark of the evenings and the quiet calm it imparts.  The world is asleep and I am up and about exploring the town and my little environment around me.  I feel this is the only way I can deal with that anxiety that haunts me every afternoon.  It is helping I believe.  As I’ve said before, early mornings are always bliss for me mentally.  I feel so well from about 8pm to noon the next day.  My unorthodox lifestyle allows me to do this. 

I drove over to get my diet Cokes around 1am. There were a lot of people out and about walking the streets tonight. My fellow night owls.  Mom had a care package of another little note of encouragement, toilet paper, paper towels, cigarettes, cigar lighters, and Maggie’s heartworm and flea medications on the porch.  I stuck the Cokes in the freezer to get cold when I arrived home.  I then shoved them in my backpack and set out for a walk down to the park in front of that dilapidated cotton mill as I listened to my little Sony weather band radio.  Tonight on Coast to Coast AM they were talking about space and the cosmos. They also had Major Ed Dames on for the last hour.  A remote viewer which makes me laugh as he never predicts anything concrete. He just waffles around the questions asked by the host.  It was an interesting show. More along the lines of which I like best.  Not all that fantastical end of the world 2012 and government conspiracy stuff.  I sat in the park drinking my ice cold diet Cokes smoking cigarette after cigarette as the katydids sang over the din of my radio. It was a moment of Zen.  I felt all was right in my world.  I was imbibing in all the things I love about life these days.

For some reason, I am finding myself unable just to sit at home content as I normally would be.  I usually tend to be agoraphobic – afraid to leave the house for fears of an anxiety attack.  I want to be out of the house finding my usual routines of months boring. Driving makes me nervous so I find myself walking everywhere I go.  I have this strong feeling of wanderlust – this strong urge to be out of doors and exploring.   It reminds me of my mother when she has trouble with her mental illness.  She will sit in the backyard in the swing until dad gets home from work saying she can’t go inside alone – that the walls are closing in around her.  I have walked more in the past few days than I have in months and my legs are sore to show for it.  Maybe the exercise is good for me – the release of endorphins that improve my usual dour moods. 

There was a previously unknown to me dollar in change in my backpack this morning.  I was exuberantly surprised.  On the way home early this morning after listening to my radio show, I stopped by the convenience store and bought a candy bar.  The sugar rush was pretty awesome as I walked home past the poor neighborhoods the line the street up from the convenience store. It was either that or a .99 cent can of Steel Reserve lager.  I felt laden with energy.  I felt strangely empowered.   I am finding myself laughing giddily in my own little world a lot these days.  A more gentle sign of my mental illness.  There is a mentally ill man who works in the hardware store next to dad’s pharmacy and he will laugh like this for no apparent reason. He is always grinning lost in his mental illness.   I feel a kinship with him these days as I know what he feels.  Laughter is good for the soul even if it is mentally ill induced.  I have these strong moments of laughter and excitement that are intoxicating they feel so good.  Dad would call these manic bipolar phases. 

I am not far from soon setting out for a morning of watching trains.  I have to stay up until 12pm and then I will come home and go to bed for the day – sleeping the afternoon away.  I wonder what strange creatures I will see on the tracks today?  I love people watching.   I will live vicariously as the patrons of Kroger walk by with their plastic sacks of groceries and twelve packs of beer – wondering what their lives are like. 

The Night Owl…

I went to bed at 9pm and awoke at 1am refreshed on just four hours of sleep. Maggie was curled up next to me sound asleep snoring softly and sighing in her sleep. Occasionally jerking from her dreams – her eyes moving wildly under her eyelids.  She looked so comfortable next to my arm curled up in a tight ball.  She must’ve been cold and couldn’t get under the comforter with me hogging it. I had it pulled tightly over me as I had turned the air down really low last night in one of my rare arctic moments.  I hated to wake her, but I was on a late night, early morning mission.  I immediately jumped up wide awake out of the bed to Maggie’s great chagrin, throwing on clothes, and excited to drive over to get my six diet Cokes for the day. And then to hurry home to start writing a blog post after my Cokes got ice cold in the freezer. Routines, ya know?  I take such satisfaction out of doing this routine.  My early morning bliss.  

Mom puts the Cokes out on the porch before she goes to bed around 11pm so I knew they would be out there by now.  Maggie heard me put on my shoes and the jingle of my keys as I put them in my pocket and went tearing outside barking up a storm to pave the way for my trip.  She does this every early morning without fail.  She is my supreme protector as always.  Dad was still up with every light on in his house when I pulled up in the driveway. I almost knocked on the door to see what he was doing, but I was on a mission that couldn’t be delayed.  I don’t know if he realized I stopped by or not.  He had been down at the pharmacy doing his usual quiet Sunday night of bookkeeping and bill paying. He has done this for as long as I can remember from 9pm to midnight every Sunday night. Charlie usually accompanies him and does the accounting end of the business. That was Charlie’s major in college which he fought so hard to obtain.  Charlie joined the military and was stationed in Thailand to pay for college on the GI bill.  He said he ate nothing but bananas the whole time he was there the food was so gross. Charlie is a very, very picky eater.     

1am is a cool, awesome time for me.  1am means Coast to Coast AM is on live until 5am. I am enamored with this show as you probably already know.  Tonight they are talking about autism.  George Knapp is hosting and he can be abrupt and brusque sometimes with the guests making things lively.  It should be an interesting show, but anti medical establishment as usual which can grow tiresome at times, though.  Everything can’t always be a conspiracy as is often the case on these shows.  I can already guess the issue of mercury in vaccines causing autism is going to be the highlight of discussion tonight. They can be very predictable.  George Noory, the usual weekly host, harped for months about the dangers of the H1N1 flu vaccine saying it was deadly.  His ignorance astounded me.  There were wild theories thrown about that the vaccine would be used to genetically manipulate us. lol  I guess I am going to turn into a mutant now since I got the vaccine many months ago.  I will believe my brother and sister, both accomplished doctors who say it is perfectly safe, over a radio talk show host who touts a spice, turmeric, as a cancer cure.

I know I am saying it a lot these days, but I feel really, really well lately and it is so damn nice. It bears repeating for the wonderful thing it is.  I felt so ill for so long.  For weeks, I felt like something drug out of a dank swamp – rising from the primordial ooze to another hell filled mentally ill day.  It is hard to sleep because you are frightened you will wake up back in hell land again.  I don’t ever want this feeling to end. I feel as if I am in a dream and I don’t want to wake up.  I always feel my best in the wee hours of the morning when my medications are still fresh in my body.  I am trying so hard to stay up as late as I can tonight so I will sleep all day tomorrow.  Around lunch to 7pm is always my hardest time with my schizophrenia and the anxiety.  I can only guess my medication levels drop and I grow tired both mentally and physically as the day grows long.. 

I got a wild hair up my butt and moved my computer desk from my computer room into the den.  It was a spur of the moment thing.  It looks cluttered and ungainly and dad is going to complain, but I like it so far.  I like the convenience of it.  I like being able to keep up with Twitter as I watch TV since my new laptop died a few weeks ago. It took a good thirty to forty five minutes to hook everything up and get back on the Internet. Now, my command center is complete.  Everything is at my fingertips. The HDTV.  The home theater.  My computer.  I don’t ever have to leave my den again!!! lol   I am writing this from the comfort of my Lazy Boy in the den with my keyboard in my lap.

For weeks, dad has been promising he is going to order the part I need to get my camera working again.  I am getting extremely frustrated which is unlike me as I am usually very laid back.  I called him last Monday to remind him and he assured me he would get Tricia to order it.  It still hasn’t arrived.  I don’t understand dad’s obfuscation about this.  Does he think it is going to cost a lot of money?   I want to get ugly and exclaim that he can drive to Alex City and take my sister furniture then why can’t he just order a $16 dollar computer part for me?  If I had money, I would just drive down to Best Buy in Auburn and easily purchase the part.  I have missed my camera so much.  I feel like I have lost a friend. Maggie has missed being captioned as well. hehe

Dad still believes I don’t need to be attending all the AA meetings I go to.  He feels it is too much pressure on me socially and mentally.  “You just can’t do all that,” he will tell me.  “It is just too much pressure on you to drive all that way and sit through all those meetings.”  It shocks me when he will say this.  I don’t understand this and it is just completely, absolutely strange.  He told the same thing to my psychiatrist as well to my psychiatrist’s raised eyebrows.  He thinks he alone can control my drinking through the lack of money and watching me constantly.  He says he can see signs when I am about to drink or abuse Benadryl.  It is a fool’s errand in my opinion.  I think AA is about the only way I am going to be able to garner a viable social life successfully these days.  I love the camaraderie and the way everyone sticks together and supports each other.  It is probably the only way I am going to be able to stay successfully sober for any length of time as well.  I still have some misgivings about the religious overtones of the program, but my brother’s wise words echo in my mind when I  have doubts.  “You’ve got to believe in something,” he told me. “Why not God?  It wouldn’t or couldn’t hurt.”    

My Thoughts at the End of the Blogging Day…

Pizza Time!

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Mom’s been with me all day.  Dad has been working in the yard.  We ordered pizza tonight and it about drove Maggie crazy to get some.  The smell that wafted through the house was wonderful.

I cut my grass today and had a mini anxiety attack.  I felt dizzy as I put the finishing touches on the front yard.  I turned off the mower and sat on the steps.  My heart was beating something furiously.  It took a good thirty minutes to recover and I put the mower in the basement and called it a day.  I will finish tomorrow.

“Hallelujah!” dad said as he walked through my yard to bring my medications. “I love it when you cut your grass.  It looks so good. You are the only house on the block with a neat yard.”

Dad was in a good mood.  He asked me all about my 6pm AA meeting.  Today we discussed sponsorship – the bane of my existence in AA.

“I’ll be your sponsor,” dad said jokingly. “My first order to you is not to drink.”

I smiled and laughed.  Dad would be the sponsor from hell. 

Tonight, I called mom to get my cokes early.  I just needed some comfort.  She gleefully told me to come and get them which surprised me.  I have been less obsessive about the Cokes lately and I think mom has realized this.  They don’t think I am no longer out to get a buzz from the caffeine. 

My Thoughts for the Blogging Day…

Gentrification…

“Your father is driving me nuts this morning,” mom said over the phone a moment ago as she yawned sleepily. “First, he started some coffee and then realized we had a new coffee maker.  He told me I shouldn’t have spent that money – that our old coffee maker worked perfectly fine.  I wanted one with a timer and a larger capacity.  Then, he has the TV up so loud in the den that it woke me up in my back bedroom.  He’s gotten so hard of hearing.”

I got the biggest smile on my face.  Mom and dad’s interactions can be so interesting and it just gets more interesting the older they get and the longer they are married. 

“I just asked him a question about his day off and what he was going to do and he just grunted something inaudible!  He can be so rude to me sometimes!”

I realized mom and dad are getting older, cranky, ornery in their elder married years.  They are the stereotypical odd couple.  They’ve been married over forty years.

“I want to thank you for going to your eye doctor’s appointment yesterday,” mom then said. “That worried me more than anything that you would have a panic attack and wouldn’t go.  I worry about your eyesight.  And your old glasses looked terrible.  You can’t wear those hard contacts.”

“Mom, you asked me over thirty times if I was going to make it!” I said.

“I know,” she said. “I am sorry.  I was obsessed.  I can be so obsessive compulsive sometimes.  It is only because I care.  I just love you.”

My Favorite Blog…

I have often told Annabel that I am her biggest blog fan.  Story of my Life is your average “day in the life” blog I think most of you who read my blog would enjoy.  She doesn’t do anything special.  There is not a lot of drama.  She doesn’t often air her dirty laundry or reveal sordid details on her blog like I tend to do.  There is no flowery prose.  I don’t think I have ever seen her use dialogue.  But I love her blog.  I love the details of her life she shares.  You really get to know her and what her life is like.  She is probably one of the busiest people I have ever met in my life as well.   She is a constant whir of activity and I think she feels guilty when she allows herself some downtime to watch TV or get online.  Our lives are such polar opposites and I think this I why I find her such an interesting and fascinating person to read about.

Business Talk…

I was overjoyed to have dad back last night for our medication ritual.  Maggie just will not eat her Purina One unless dad puts it out for her.  She is such a choosey and finicky dog.  She loves her routines as much as I, Charlie, or mom.

“I hired a new pharmacist this week,” dad said excitedly. “This will give me much more time off.  I will be 65 this August and need to think about retiring.  I keep hoping Angie will buy the store from me.”

Dad has his first Saturday off in weeks today.  He was so excited last night.   This brings the total number of pharmacists working for him to three.  Dad never talks about the business end of the pharmacy with me so I was very interested in the details of what was going on. 

“A few months back CVS made an offer to buy the store and my clientele,” dad said. “I refused.  I want to keep the pharmacy independently owned for the sake of my customers.”

I have often worried about what dad will do about retiring.  The pharmacy has made him very wealthy, but it has also been a very big ball and chain all these years.  He has worked 12 hour days for decades and I don’t see how he has done it all these years.

The Quest for Soda…

It was thundering and lightning something fierce this morning at 6am as I drove to get my daily sodas.  My windshield wipers were on their highest setting as I pulled into mom and dad’s rear driveway.  I almost couldn't see to drive, but this didn’t stop me on my daily quest.  I tried to do without caffeine, but only made it two days before the withdrawal headaches started.  I also grew wary that my abstinence from one of my favorite daily rituals would make me more mentally interesting. 

I ran up mom and dad’s back steps in a driving rain getting soaking wet.  My cokes were in their plastic sack sitting where they always are in the corner of the back porch.  My curiosity was piqued as the sack felt heavier than usual.  Upon arriving back home, I looked in the sack.  Inside were several goodies much to my excitement.  Mom had included a nice expensive Zippo cigar lighter, a new longer leash for Maggie,  two extra diet Pepsi, and a note.

I thought you would enjoy a few extra things this morning, mom wrote.  Julia bought the cigar lighter for you.  She says they last for months.  I worry about you not being able to light your cigarettes.  Maggie’s old leash was terrible and too short, so I went back to Wal-Mart last night and got her a new one. Don’t tell your father I gave you two extra Pepsi.  I thought you would enjoy that.  Love, mom.

My Thoughts for the Blogging Day…

Intruder Alert!

Maggie woke me at 2:30 barking like I haven’t heard her bark in weeks.  I turned on all the outside and inside lights and then put some chicken nuggets in the microwave to warm.  I had the munchies something terrible.  “Did I lock my car?” went through my mind as I sat down in the den smoking my first cigarette of the day.  Out came the flashlight and I walked outside to make sure my car was locked.  I then opened the fence and found that Maggie had a raccoon cornered.  The raccoon was hissing menacingly and growling something fiercely backed up in the corner of the fence.  It seems he had been enjoying Mexican Tuesday’s as well before Maggie interrupted him.  Well, I had to pick Maggie up, bring her inside, and lock the dog door to diffuse the situation.  Maggie was none too pleased.  She was doing her job and I had caused a layoff.  I am sure a few backyard neighbors sighed with relief, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

The Bare Necessities…

I’ve tried a lot of templates over the course of my blogging career.  I am finding myself gravitating to simple designs that load fast.  I removed most of the bells and whistles from my blog such as the Twitter gadget and a few other things with the hopes that when you visit, the blog will load like lightning.  I am pretty sure most of you come here for my character studies and stories, and not a fancy schmancy template that looks like it was designed by a color blind child with ADHD.   I also have ulterior motives as well.  I have been doing most of my browsing and blog reading through my Wii these days and I wanted something that was friendly to that console.  

Caller ID Enabled…

Mom got me hooked up with caller ID.  I now have my phone set up with a distinct and different ring for mom’s home number, dad’s cell phone, and Mrs. Florene’s number.  These are the only people that should be calling me on a regular basis.  Terribly, I am relieved to know when Mrs. Florene calls as she can talk for an hour and sometimes I just don’t want to chat.  Because of my social anxieties, I can’t just say I have to get off the phone.  I will sit there and listen for an hour till I am exhausted.  Crazy, I know.  I love her more than anything, but she sure can run her mouth on the phone.

Adventures in Mental Illness…

I have felt this undercurrent of mental illness the past few days.  It’s nothing of the caliber I used to experience a few years ago.  My doctor and I have seemed to have found a medication regimen that mostly keeps my mental illness at bay.  But the medications aren’t perfect.  I go through cycles like my mother.  I keep having tinges of auditory hallucinations.  Car doors shutting.  Front door closing.  Knocking on the door.  Weird high pitched sounds (bleeps and whoops) in the music I listen to.   It is aggravating more than anything as it ties into my social anxieties other than the music. 

Day Two Caffeine Free…

I keep expecting this headache of grand and epic proportions today with lots of withdrawal.  I’ve had to use a bit of subterfuge to keep mom from freaking out.  I still drive over to get my diet Pepsi and put them under the sink in the cabinet.  They are my ace in the hole.  You better bet that if I get the faintest hint of a headache, I am going to drink my six for the day. 

The Mad Sale Dash…

I was just laying in bed asleep.  With the bounty of food I have, I had forgotten about Mexican Tuesday’s.  Maggie was going nuts as mom walked across my front yard with my meal and it awakened me.

“Get dressed,” mom said as I opened my front door. I was in my boxer shorts and a t-shirt – my sleeping gear. “We’re going to Wal-Mart. Mrs. Sandra said they have cases of Cokes on sale for $5 dollars today and I can’t carry them and I need your help.  We need to hurry before they run out. Come on. Hurry.”

I let mom drive much to my chagrin.  I was still asleep.  I sat on the passenger’s side smoking cigarettes and trying to wake up.

We got down there and they were sold out of Cokes, but had a few cases of diet Pepsi left.

“Will you drink diet Pepsi?” mom asked me.

“I will drink anything with caffeine in it,” I said with a chuckle.

We got four cases and headed home.  It was $24 dollars.  Mom kept asking me if I was sure I would drink Pepsi and I assured her I would.  She must have asked me that five times.   Mom drove me over to their house so I could empty the Pepsi’s from the trunk to the garage and then she drove me home.  Mom loves a good sale and it was contagious.  I had a good time after I had gotten woken up. 

Update…

I had just gotten back in the bed a moment ago.  Maggie had settled in with me and was preening.  The phone rang.  “SHIT!” I exclaimed and threw the covers off of me.   Maggie jumped off the bed and ran into the computer room to see what was going on.  The phone ringing excites her for some reason.

“Are you sure you are going to drink those diet Pepsi?” mom asked for the sixth time tonight on the other end. “I hate wasting money.  I am a little obsessive compulsive.”

“I will be over every morning to get them,” I said trying to reassure her.

“Shave tonight, okay?” mom then said and asked.

I laughed. “You don’t like my goatee?”

“You look homeless like you did when you used to drink so heavy.”

I assured her I would shave before dad arrived.  She thanked me and told me she would get me some sugar and coffee creamer tomorrow when she bought my groceries.  I was trying my best to get off the phone and go back to bed! LOL  I am headed that way now until dad arrives.  Boy, it’s been a busy couple of days for a guy with social anxieties, phone phobias, and agoraphobia. 

How My Diet Cokes Have Been Coming Packaged…

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My Thoughts for the End of the Blogging Day…

Charlie called me this afternoon.  I made the mistake of saying Charlie’s name and Maggie whined for hours until he just arrived.  I was so overjoyed at all the treats Charlie brought Maggie and I.  Charlie brought Maggie a big bag of teriyaki beef jerky from Kroger.  I got a carton of Marlboro Reds (rich for my austere tastes). A big plate of Easter fixings with ham, sesame chicken, corn casserole, macaroni casserole, green beans, garlic biscuits, potato salad, and deviled eggs.  I also got a bucket of grilled chicken and a giant cup of sweet tea from Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Charlie also brought my medications and my six diet Cokes for tomorrow which I will, no doubt, drink tonight.  I am off to enjoy this evening feeling very mental well.  I will have the Thoughts for the Day and my Attitude of Gratitude video posted first thing in the morning.  I hope you all have a good night!

Easter Sunday Attitude of Gratitude...

Caught With My Pants Down…

“You haven’t come to get your Cokes yet,” mom said a moment ago over the phone. “I thought maybe you were feeling mentally unwell.  Are you having panic attacks?”

I smiled sheepishly.  Little did mom know that I was there when the police left and the backdoor of their home was open.  Charlie let me get some cokes and we locked the door.  I didn’t tell mom and dad knowing they would get on to me. Dad swears I am the only man in the USA that can get high off of cokes.   I have felt guilty ever since.  Used to, I wouldn’t have given a shit so I guess my conscience is improving with sobriety and AA. I still drank the diet Cokes, though.

“Um,” I replied not wanting to lie. “Just put the cokes out and I will be over right now to pick them up.”

“What are you doing?” mom then asked.

“Listening to Kim Comando on Computers,” I replied.

“You love that AM talk radio,” she said.

I drove over to get my six Cokes for the day.  It was raining and it was nice.  I thought how lucky I was to be alive on the drive and experiencing this day.  I was feeling very, very, very mentally well.  I was really enjoying the moment.  It is a good day to be alive and I hope this feeling lasts me for the day.  If only everyday were like this.   

My Thoughts for the Day…

Tones of Home…

Sometimes, I can let dad completely set the tone for the rest of the evening.  He was in a great mood and very affectionate last night.  This made me very happy.  He gave Maggie and I equal time.  We continued our talk of the Shroud of Turin and my beliefs that it is a medieval relic.  Not something from the first century.  We argued over the radio carbon dating methods used to test the shroud.  It was a good night and good times.  Dad and I can be such geeks about such things.    

I told dad about mom’s response to me when I told her to quit doing so much for me.

“She took it as a personal affront!” I said laughing. “I was trying to help her!”

“That’s your mother,” dad said. “She is just like her mother as much as she hated how her own mother acted like that all her life.”

“She told you to kiss her ass about being old,” I told dad with the biggest smile on my face spilling the beans.

“She would never say that to my face!” dad exclaimed looking astonished.

“I know,” I replied. “But I thought it was the funniest thing I have heard in weeks.”

Dad laughed good heartedly.   “I’ve told her to kiss my ass a few times as well,” he said. “So, we’re even.”

A Welcomed Surprise…

I drove over at 4am to get my Cokes this morning as I normally do.  It is the first thing I do after cleaning myself up some, shaving, brushing my hair.  I was so surprised when there were six regular diet cokes instead of the usual three caffeine free and three regular.  This just excited me to no end.  This has been the second morning in a row that this has happened.  Inside the bag were also my usual eight Tylenol and eight aspirin.  Dad would be aghast if he knew mom was still giving these to me after my wisdom tooth was extracted. Dad says I am the only person alive on this earth that can get addicted to Tylenol.   I really don’t know why she is still giving them to me as well.  I guess she worries I am still in pain after the surgery.

A Twitterer Tarnished…

Remember that woman I was so dead set on making my friend on Twitter and that I was so enamored with?  Well, that didn’t end so well.  After getting to know her more completely, I realized I really didn’t like her all that well after all.  She was probably one of the most anally retentive women I have ever encountered.   It was like getting a new toy only for the toy to become tarnished after use in a week or two losing it’s luster.   Everything was akin to pulling teeth with her.  She complained too much and I tend to avoid negative people finding my mental illness is far enough negativity for me to handle in my own life.  I quit with my advances towards her.  I realized there is a reason people like her and I are single and in their late thirties.  We have lots of baggage to carry around.    

Thoughts at the End of the Day…

Wearing Furrows in my Hardwood Floors…

I have paced and paced today.  I have paced for hours.  My legs feel like Jell-O and are extremely sore from all the pacing.  I know rationally that is not normal to constantly walk in circles around the inside of my house, but I can’t seem to communicate this to the obsessive compulsive component of my brain.  Late this evening, I finally collapsed in the world’s most comfortable computer chair to write and relax as I drank the only two diet Cokes I had on hand.  The urge is still there though.  I want to pace until dad gets here then I will take my medications and go to bed.  Luvox don’t let me down tonight!

Shaky Hands Make for Spilt Pills…

“I can’t seem to get the pills out of the bottle,” mom said tonight, her hands shaking violently.

“What brought this on?” I asked, worried.

I had driven over to get my six diet Cokes early and some aspirin and Tylenol.  It was supposed to rain all night after midnight.  I didn’t want to drive in the rain at 3 am in the morning – my usual time to get my drinks. 

“I tried to walk tonight,” mom replied. “Your father has been getting on to me about my weight.”

Mom takes the anti-psychotic Zyprexa – the proverbial coin with two sides.  It makes you effectively saner, but also makes you fat and diabetic.  All these anti-psychotics seem to have severe side effects.  Mine is that my Risperdal makes me asexual.

Mom was sitting in her huge bathroom in a chair and I followed her into her bedroom as she took three aprozolam.  

“I will feel better in about thirty minutes,” she said, lying down on the bed. “Lock the back door.  And don’t get the Cokes in the hall! They’re for tomorrow!”

I smiled and chuckled to myself.  As bad as mom felt, she was still handling those diet Cokes with that Nazi-like tenacity she is well known for.   Six Cokes and six cokes only is all I’m going to get a day if it weren’t for George. 

Completely Disappointing Coke Ritual Experience…

 

“You’re sure you’re not trying to pull a fast one on me,” dad said this morning. “You’re mother always puts your cokes out.”

“She was out of it last night, dad!” I exclaimed desperately. “She called me asking me what day it was at three in the morning.”

Dad yawned and you could hear him get out of the bed.  His cell phone was beeping meaning the battery was low.

“I’ll put you six Cokes out in just a minute,” he finally told me. “Let me wake up and start breakfast.”

I sighed with relief.  I was really getting into a tizzy over my usual Coke ritual not going as planned.  I had waited for hours fretting for sunrise so I could call.  My obsessive compulsiveness was in overdrive.  

“I’m driving over right now to get them,” I said before hanging up.

Well, you have never met a more disappointed Andrew when I got home from getting my Cokes and they were all caffeine free when I looked in the plastic sack.  I was hoping for my three “leaded” diet Cokes to wake me up.  I will know from now on to wait until dad goes to work before calling – to be patient.  I will get mom to put my cokes out from now on no matter how out of it she is.