Friday the 13th

Any triskaidekaphobes among us? I swear, they have a phobia for everything, including one for having peanut butter stick to the roof of your mouth. Although I've never found another soul on this earth who was afraid of the Three Stooges, as I was as a kid. I don't get it. So many people are terrified of clowns; why aren't more people scared of that trio of ugly freaks, wreaking havoc and hurting each other? Yeah, I know, I'm weird.

It's been, as predicted, a bleah week. But here's a bright spot: Pandora did a lovely write-up of our shoot last month. My spirits and ego were lifted by all her kind words, and I cannot wait to see this video! I think it's going to be a lot of fun.

I did have work this week, which is the good news. Bad news? It was really nasty stuff. My one medical client sent me a course about how to treat pressure ulcers, complete with graphic pictures. I swear, I had to put one hand on the screen to cover up some of the photos, so that I could read the text around them without heaving. I managed to get through it and sent it back, and they promptly sent me another course -- this one was about the varying levels of wound infection. Even worse!! I grit my teeth, forcing myself to think "It's work, it's work, it's work," as I struggled to keep from decorating my keyboard and screen with the contents of my stomach.

Anyway, finally got through that. Then another client sent me a project for today: a 20-page, double-column, small print article about mental health, suicide and life-threatening behavior. How cheery!

In other news, John's HMO continues to give him the runaround regarding his various health issues, fighting him on every turn and insisting on pushing the oldest and cheapest procedures. For example, even though many heart surgeries are being done with minimally invasive techniques nowadays, they still insist on the old-fashioned saw-through-the-ribs-and-tear-open-the-chest variety of heart surgery that's been done since the 1950s. The good news: John finally, finally has a second-opinion appointment next week, outside of his HMO, with a hospital that specializes in heart surgery. They will review all his records and tests and so forth, and give their opinion on what is best for him. At least then, he will be armed with information that is free from HMO agenda, and he'll have a clearer idea of what to go for. So, the beat goes on.

I am in a funk, there's no denying that. No one big thing, just lots of little things, like the visit to my stepdad, the ongoing situation with John, miscellaneous aggravations, and feeling very lonely and disconnected lately. I'm feeling especially let down by someone I care about, and I'm struggling with that too, not knowing what to do about it. I need a hug. I need lots of hugs. I need spanking. I need attention. Blah blah blah. Oh, and it's Father's Day this Sunday. That makes me sad as well. At least I remembered to send my stepfather a card. I even found a Stepdad card, which is quite a feat. In the sea of Father, Dad and Daddy cards, they are a rarity.

Onward. Next week, I hope to be a little bit more on topic, or at least a little more upbeat. Have a great weekend, y'all. And to the dads, happy Father's Day.

EDIT: Have to add something that just happened.

I tweeted: "I know that when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade. Not quite sure what to do when life hands you suckage. Working on that."

One of my followers tweeted back: "Make succotash?"

Now that made me laugh. Out loud.