July 4th, 2007


Muggy-hot 4th of July

Sunday was the mother in law's birthday; I went to lunch with friends and totally spaced on calling her until it was too late at night. Monday I called her but she wasn't home.

Monday I also went to see my neurologist; he prescribed not less but MORE provigil: a 100mg dose just before 2pm when the usual 'sleep wave' hits me. The medical insurance did not pay for it as they're supposed to because random medications must be pre-approved by a bean-counting drone before they will permit them.
Actually I think it's because provigil is so damned expensive, so I may grant them that, but it wasn't in any handbook or terms that I got that they had to do that.

While it's the fourth, it's also Wednesday. It was Wednesday the 3rd of July in 2002 when guests arrived from out of town, and when Penny went in to Kaiser and had a D&C done (no anaesthesia, thanks) and they identified the uterine cancer.

Reading back, I see that I was pretty mopey over stupid stuff, but I'd still mope over most of it. Angst over games is stupid but inevitable if you care about them.

In 2003, the 4th was a Friday. Penny and I went to Westercon in SeaTac, and we watched the fireworks all around on the horizon. She hadn't recovered strength enough to walk around but we had a rented wheelchair, which was good, and soft carpets at the hotel, which was bad.

I have no record of what we did for the 4th in 2004. Penny couldn't get around very well at all... right. That was the year when we were playing Animal Crossing - at least part of the time we watched fireworks on the game.

In 2005, though I didn't write anything down, we were in the apartment. The upstairs and over one neighbors were shooting bottle rockets and such off their balcony, and being loud and drunken. We couldn't see the fireworks at the airport. It was hot, though not intolerable, and we basically stayed home together and ate barbecue that I made.

In 2006, I drove to Redding to visit family there, and drove back on the 4th. In reading it, I realized one thing: the flashbacks have, largely, stopped. I can, and do, remember the things Penny and I did, but I'm not being shoved so hard into the memory that I have to use emergency dissociative tricks to separate my physical reflexes from the emotional processes.
(That's something I developed as a continually-bullied kid, and it was decades before I knew what it was I was doing.)

Mom called me to ask me to come down to my brother Casey's 4th-of-July picnic, so I'll go, but I have a profound apathy about it. It'll be good though. I plan not to stay past 6pm but ... oh well.

I may follow up on this later.
  • Current Mood
    enraged firework

bloated and hot

Barbeque chicken, hamburgers, two jello salads, corn on the cob, watermelon, fresh veggies with various oleaginous and spiced dips, a Vlasic pickle. Some mini-cupcakes and half a whole-wheat gingerbread cookie.

95 degrees and 80% humidity.

Indoors, the incredibly noisy marathon of "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" competing with a colicky three month old baby girl.

Outside, hot, smoke, inadequate shade, more smoke, sun trying to creep up on us all.

Dinner an hour later than expected.

At 5:15, I black out deliberately. At 5:20 I wake up enough to be alert and do stuff. Just before 6pm, heading home. Freeway uncrowded until halfway there, when it starts being moderately crowded and infested with one or two speed freaks who have to do 85 where everyone else is doing 73, and they have to cut in and out of lanes where people have exactly one car length between them at that speed. I slow so they can fit in and get ahead and as far away as possible. Alas, none are pulled over by police and mocked in passing.

I got here at 6:45 more or less. Fed the cats. Turned on the fan. Cold cloth on neck.

All better. I hate hot weather.

I will not be bothering to see fireworks.

And, having unavoidably listened briefly to our Esteemed President-Select as I hit the OFF button in three separate instances upon hearing his voice, I was struck by the Zen question:

Are his words stupid and banal because he says them? Or is he stupid and banal because of what he says?
  • Current Mood
    quixotic Patriotic