Random

Make of THIS what you will, but it just can't be good:

Today I got Chinese food for lunch. And my fortune cookie?

Was empty.

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Am I the only one who wishes that the Internet would get rid of that picture of the poor one-eyed kitten??? That's one of the saddest, most pitiful things I've seen in a long while, and not only that, but if you read the story, it turns out that the poor kitty died. Any mention of dead kitties makes me need to hug the felines, which in turn makes my eyes all itchy and causes me to start sneezing. Repeatedly.

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In other cat-related news: the interlopers have been downright rotten lately, and may be exempted from the above-mentioned hugging. Seriously, y'all, we're coming up on 18 months with these little crap-factories, and they're now so attached to me that I can't even pee without a cat bursting into the bathroom and head-butting me in the knees. There are certain things a woman wants to do in peace, you know??

Really, though, they're the ones who'll suffer for their chronic underfoot-ness; I've stepped on more paws and tails than I can possibly count. I'd feel bad about it, but every morning and night, they run down the stairs in front of me and nearly send me flying, so...maybe I don't feel so bad after all.

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Hey, remember that "rule" that says the gas company can't cut off your service for non-payment between November 1 and April 1?? Well, guess what? It's not a rule, after all. Apparently it's a "courtesy" that People's Energy, in their infinite benevolence, extends to their customers. Only not this year, it seems...because today at work I got a call telling me that unless I pay a goodly chunk of my (now 15-days-past-due) bill, I will apparently be cut off. It's worth mentioning here that I made a partial payment; I paid $150 of the $340 charge from the previous month, planning to pay the winter bill down through the spring, as I usually do. But that's not an option this year; apparently, the best way to deal with consumers affected by astronomical gas prices is to squeeze them as hard as possible, as soon as possible, and threaten them to boot. So tomorrow I will pay $200, which will cover the remaining past due balance...which only leaves me $393 in the hole, since December's bill got mailed yesterday.

Does anyone else see something really, profoundly wrong here??? I have a job--what do people do who are on fixed incomes, or unemployed, or have five kids to feed??? How is a utility licensed by the government allowed to put consumers in a position where they might very well have to choose between heat or food??? (Don't answer that--I already know the answer. But it's unconscionable, and I hope there's a circle of hell prepared for the people who benefit from it. That's blood-money, if you ask me.)

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Methdone update: I'm now at twelve days clean, and I feel fine. All my needle-bruises are pretty well healed, though there are a couple of spots I can still see. I'd forgotten one of the unpleasant things about methadone, though: at doses this high, it makes you sweat. I'm constantly wiping my face and lifting my hair off the back of my neck, trying in vain to cool off. I've moved a fan into my office, and I keep it blowing on me all the time, but even that's not too helpful, and I'm constantly cajoling the other people on my floor to admit that it's hot, so I can call maintenance and have them turn down the heat. It never works, though--"Hot? Are you CRAZY? I'm FREEZING!" is generally the response I get--and I've taken to wearing t-shirts to work, just to keep cool. Even with that drawback, though, I'm thrilled to be stable on my methadone and NOT having cravings.

The only time of day that I don't like being on methadone is the two minutes it takes to swallow my dose. I'm on 130 milligrams, which the nurses have to split into two cups for me, because 130 mgs is thick and lumpy and impossible to swallow all at once. Methadone is one of the most wholeheartedly vile-tasting substances you can imagine--it's like gulping down a big handful of half-dissolved aspirin, and it coats the inside of your mouth and sticks there, clingy and bitter, til it's washed down with something sweet. Right next to the medication window, the clinic has one of those big Igloo jugs full of double-strength red Kool-Aid, which tastes like heaven after slugging down a few tablespoons of sludgy orange goo. But if it keeps me away from heroin, I'll drink orange sludge every day for the rest of my life, if I have to.

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And speaking of withdrawal: I can't believe there's still five weeks left til NASCAR season starts back up. It seems like FOREVER!