Erik (eriktrips) wrote,

  • Mood:

the small things

so I just got my deposit for the web design job I'm doing this month. most of it has already been rerouted to my landlord. I thought I was going to have to go buy more @$%&# printer ink (I'm an elitist who thinks that Canon Ink is actually better for art prints than Office Depot fill'em up ink so I pay the price) but then I thought hm. did I happen to buy TWO sets of cyan and photo cyan last time I needed them..?

because of the state of my room I had to move a few things to find out, but when I did, there they were!

happiness is all the ink tanks on your printer reading "full."

the cats will be happy as this means I can take the printer ink money and go buy catfood. I would have bought it anyway but there wouldn't have been any left over for catnip. :(

in other news, I may have a good shot at a telecommute editing job thanks to one of you wonderful people out there. the company sent me about fifty word documents to read through, one of which is a test edit. I will look at them tonight.

I'm still going to pursue the disability case; I don't know that I can find enough of this kind of work to support myself--or if it will turn out to be something I can actually deal with without undue panic--so I'm just going to see how things unfold on both sides. this means I might be seeing a new psychiatrist tomorrow or at least setting up an appointment to see about getting evaluated for a differential between Complex PTSD and Pervasive Developmental Disorder. psychiatrists are such a hit-or-miss bunch, since what they do isn't really a science but a culturally-mediated sorting of people according to how well they function in late capitalism. some have this moral attachment to productivity and self-sufficiency that clouds their ability to say "why yes your way of being is maladaptive to our culture" instead of insisting they can "heal" you by making you do things that you already know won't work.

I have no illusions about psychiatry but I'm willing to use them to find out something like my own relative truth. and some of their drugs help me, so I take them. I don't believe for one minute that any of them have any idea why the drugs help me. well, klonopin does interrupt an apparent panic circuit, but even that mechanism is not well-understood. if this is science, it is still in the crude form of collecting empirical evidence without having yet been able to formulate any well-developed working hypotheses. still, sometimes things work. throw enough neurotransmitter-modifying drugs at someone and you will change something and sometimes it is a helpful change.

sometimes it is not, which is why meds trials are hell. not merely difficult, inconvenient, or disruptive. HELL. people should get six weeks paid leave to go through one. and a caretaker who comes by every day to make sure you are ok and hold your hand if things get scary.

my life is a chemically-mediated experiment. all I really need to do is live long enough and be cognizant enough to publish three or four books. after that, it doesn't really matter to me what they do with the body, you know?

and now, I'm putting the body to bed.

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