Let me give a little description of my day, Friday. My horoscope said things would be tight - don't raise my voice - until after June 2, when I would blossom. Well, I feel that this would have been true, except for the fact that CFS is a monkey-wrench in the works. After telling one of the main repair-monkey that he didn't understand my illness, and that I avoid all people because none of them understand, I went on with my Friday, hampered by a hard, frontal CFS headache, sapping away my cognizance, and making me have mistakes all day. Well, and this was a so-called, "good", day...
It takes me a day to get ready to go shopping, making sure I've got everything in line. Not everything was in line. First, I got on the bus and the little old country guy was there, and, after I had told him I had a headache that I hoped would go away, (and after I had once told him that I look normal but am usually racked with difficulty, in the brain), he began talking and talking, which I had to keep up with and participate in. So, my headache did not go away.
He's a nice little guy, but I have learnt that I must ultimately tell people, with whom I have regular contact, that, yes, I really am disabled, and, it's crazy, but I NEED my circadian rhythm; I need QUIET; I need no stress, I need sleep, and so forth. As some kind of personal compensation, they usually go off mocking me and spitting trite gossip with coworkers or friends or family. Well, that's what happens in these parts, I reckon. Gotta get me a home, home on the range, where the deer and antelope ARE NOT STRANGE.
I get into F&F and pick up 5 bags of sunflower seeds - (I NEED my sunflower seeds!) - one bag of experimental soy nuts, and one bag of socially-conscious Kettle Brand potato chips, from Oregon Country. The cashier was a nice young skinny tall girl, with a big ball of middle-aged controllaholism lumbering behind her. I bought no lumber. I brought out my VISA debit card - and it was the wrong one! I remembered, being at home yesterday, sorting out the card I thought was the wrong one, and deliberately saving the good one, to use. But I had stupidly taken the good one out of my wallet, and left the bad one in. The "bad" one only had $10 in the account. Plus, it's PIN almost never works on the machines here.
So, I had to leave the goods. "Here, have some sunflower seeds," I said to the cashier. She laughed a cute little sincere laugh. Now, I walked out of there thinking that there was no way I was going to be able to complete my day constructively. You can't buy cat food, or wine, etc., on a food stamps card.
(I am in the habit of buying lots of cans of cat food now. For my dog! I give him 1/2 of those little cans, for his morning treat, and another 1/2 for his night treat, often. They are nutritious. Low carb. However, I noticed that most of them do contain gluten, especially the "creamy" ones. The creamy ones don't seem to have much, if any, milk in them, which is good. But they use the gluten to thicken them up, when they could be using guar gum, or such).
In the spirit of my horoscope, though, I was smitten by a genius idea! On my way up the road is a branch of mine very own bank. I thought I would ask them for some kind of signed note, with my card number on it, so I could present it to store cashiers, who would punch my card numbers in with their money-grubbing fingers.
I walked into the bank, and began my wee story of woe to a teller. She, of course, gave the common midwestern, 21'st Century response, which was essentially this, "This is too ABNORMAL, and so we probably can't help you in any way whatsoever, aren't you gone yet?"
But it turned out that THAT teller was only helping for the day. She wasn't a real teller. As I persisted, (which always pays off, folks), a TRUE teller overheard my convo, and was able to help me. Meanwhile, I had "teller" #1 laughing in a good mood. How about that? Me and my 5 tonne headache cheering people up, as usual, sinking another inch deeper into my grave.
I was given a brand new card, (which I activated at the ATM), even though my card at home would still be valid. Truly, that rocked. So, back again I walked, to F&F. I looked at the aisles, and the tall skinny blonde girl was not there. But, when I came back with new sunflower seeds, et al, there she was. Some old lady who possibly had Alzheimers was in front of me, and she began squeezing my bag of chips, without saying anything. She said she was looking for chocolate-covered popcorn, which were only sold at Xmas time. She took a long time to leave, muttering. But we were kind to her.
Then, me and the girl had some little laughs, along with a dif cashier behind her. Nothing makes me feel better than when someone sincerely laughs along with me, or at my jokes, or at my elongating nose.
I was off to the races. I thought I had turned everything around. I also went to a pizza shop, and bought a (GF) pizza with food stamps! This was possible, I think, because they sold the pizzas raw. I learnt that I would have to cook the pizza myself. So, I had to walk along the highway carrying this pizza oddly. No cardboard container.
I then went into a dollar store, (where everything costs more than a dollar). I was expecting to buy over $25, so I could use a $5 coupon, but it didn't work out that way. My main mission there was to pick up a whole lot of cans of cat food! I had two coupons, buy 10 for $5, & buy 10 for $3, or whatever. I selected the tastiest vittles. When I got to the counter, it turns out that I had stupidly submitted a coupon issued by the local supermarket. And so, I had to have 10 cans removed, while people waited. Another problem was that my selections were all wrong! See - my brain just doesn't cut it sometimes, no matter how hard I try to concentrate.
I ended up having too much of some other brand. I think back to glitterophelia, who has similar difficulties. Once, she either "absent-mindedly" misplaced a check for a few hundred dollars, or else it was actually pilfered by a teller when she wasn't "looking". This sort of difficulty happens so often, to people like us, and it is not even the worst of it, when migraines or extreme fatigue virtually no activity or thinking at all. And, the thing is, this doesn't seem to be a neuronal problem. It seems to be a vascular/ bp problem, where oxygen and/or glucose are not allowed to get to the neurons, and firing is poorly synchronised. Internalising incoming information, AND seeking to retrieve memory/s, (recall), is blocked by a huge wall.
I loaded up the cat food, etc. And crossed the highway to the supermarket. I had to rush around there, so I would not miss my bus. But I bought most of what I wanted - except... The most important thing: The coconut oil, which I use as a medicine, (along with turmeric). I even walked past an aisle, with the sign saying, "Oils, etc..." The word somehow reached out to me, but I thought, "Why would I want to buy oil?!" More brain lapse.
At the checkout counter, some guy talked about how he also eats spinach and cilantro, which was nice. The girl with the coke bottle eyes had to check out my wine. I smiled normally, but she was impatient or angry at me, after I had deliberately avoided her for about a month, seeing she was crushing on me. But, I am a good judge of character, and circumstance, and so avoiding her was the right thing to do. However, this day, I was all inspired by having fun, flirty conversations with the tall blond girl, with the pizza girl, etc., I just naturally smiled at the coke bottle girl. Eh.
So, I didn't miss the bus, and it arrived within its 1/2 hour window of prerogativity. It was the driver who never helps carry the groceries. And a passenger was a certain non-stop loudmouth girl, who again played true to this characterisation. Meanwhile, I was sitting in the back, and getting all wet under my legs, etc. One of the natural cleaning spray bottles was not closed well enough, and it was leaking in my bag, coming out in a steady stream. This might not have happened if I had not packed those bottled UNDER the weight of all the cans of cat food.
I came home, and had wine, which brought out the richness of my headache, which tortured me through Saturday. Meanwhile, my neighbours, who have been seen to be competing with me lately, because they believed the gossip from the new jerk neighbours below, were having a little neighbourhood party, with very loud music, sans madman. I ripped a Styrofoam egg container in my kitchen, which was audible, and so the turned up the music, and all that.
People got drunk and shouted and complained about unknown stuff. I don't know if the downstairs GUY was over there, but he probably was. When it finished, some guy outside my window barked and yowled like a coyote, probably mocking my dog.