Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Don't Tell Me What To Do

So when I went to the nurse practitioner last week, I asked if perhaps she could prescribe a few Valium, as she did before once, for when my anxiety gets really bad and I was fairly surprised that she did. Fifteen of them, in fact.
So I have fifteen Valium (which cost $1.46 and I am not kidding you) and so I thought about taking one today. I really considered it.
Here's the thing though- if I took one, I'd only have fourteen Valium. Which makes me feel a bit less safe than having fifteen.
How ridiculous is that?
Do you remember on Seinfeld when Elaine got a box of The Sponge birth control sponges when they went off the market? And how she then had to base her decisions about whether or not to have sex with a guy on how sponge-worthy he was?
Let me refresh your memory.

Anyway, every time I consider taking one of those Valiums I think about Elaine and I have to decide if this bout of anxiety is Valium worthy.

Today I decided not. Sure, the anxiety was pretty bad but it wasn't like I had to go onstage or do a presentation at work or anything like that. You can clean out a damn hen house and be anxious at the same time and the end result is going to be the same. You might feel like shit while you're doing it but you're dealing with shit anyway and as long as you can get up and do it...well. Get up and do it and feel like shit.

I had a few things I sort of had to do in town and so I drove there slowly down the backroads because honestly, driving while under the influence of anxiety is probably as dangerous and stupid as driving under the influence of alcohol and I found myself doing the last thing I would have imagined doing which was going to Walmart which I don't deal with very well under the best of circumstances and also, there's that moral and ethical thing that prevents me from going there too.
But I didn't go into the store part, just the garden part. I wanted some cherry tomatoes to plant and so I thought...well, why not? It's on my side of town and seemed like a better alternative than actually getting into Tallahassee traffic. There was hardly anyone in the garden center- a few other old ladies, mostly, and I found myself surrounded by plants and the place is open to the outdoors and the giant ceiling fan was keeping the cool, dirt and plant-scented air circulating all around me and I suddenly felt as if I WAS on Valium. A bit stoned, very calm, very slow, but okay.
I bought my cherry tomatoes and two Cherokee purples and two Tabasco peppers and two types of basil and some impatiens and handled it all pretty well.
I went on to Publix where yet another man pissed me off.
This was a very, very old man and while I was looking at the cheese with my cart about three feet away in the aisle from me, he came up to me and said, "Do you have money in your purse?"
Nah, dude. All my money is stuffed down my bra-like garment.
I didn't say that. Of course I said, "Yes," knowing was about to come out of his mouth and it did. He warned me that it would be so easy for someone to steal my money and run out of the store before I knew it and I told him that I'd been doing this for thirty years (although it's more like forty, truthfully) and that no one had ever snatched my purse but he kept interrupting me to tell me that I was making a big mistake and I finally just said, "Thank you!" and walked off. Without any cheese.

And once again- why did this bother me so? Just an old man, thinking he's doing his duty to warn poor, innocent, helpless women that some nefarious character is just lurking in the aisles of the grocery store waiting to steal their purses, as if I don't have the sense to keep a watch on my own stuff and so what? So what? Who was he hurting? He wasn't hurting me.
I don't know. I don't think I want strange men in my personal space these days. Whether they think they have the right to tell me that someone could steal my money or whether they think they have the right to interrupt a conversation, I can't tolerate it. It's almost like some wound has ripped open inside of me and these men are just poking at it.

Maybe I'm just becoming a bitter and bossy and intolerant and mean old woman. I don't know but it sure is happening.

I bought my stuff and came home and took the trash and got outside and did a few chores like cleaning out the hen house and scrubbing out the chicken waterer and then I planted my little impatiens in pots and planted the tomatoes and peppers and basils in the garden and watered the porch plants and I'm okay. No strange men around here and no men at all, to tell you the truth, unless you count Jack and he just got chased away from the food bowl by a hen so I'm not too worried about him.

I did get a chicken pot pie at the store and I might eat that or I might eat a frozen pizza that I got with lots of added tomatoes and mushrooms. I have dirty feet again, I am an old southern woman with cats and chickens, some outside and some in an ice chest in a bath tub and I am mean as a snake and batshit crazy and tonight that is who I am and when I wake up tomorrow (should I be so lucky) we'll see who I am then.

Love...Ms. Moon Who Still Has Fifteen Valium


  1. I would have thought the guy this morning was just being friendly but that old man at the store was just plain being disrespectful as if a woman your age (or any age for that matter) didn't have sense to keep an eye on her stuff. I hate being talked down to. re the fertilizer...I just went to the feed store and asked them what was good. the guy recommended some granules in a plain paper bag, said it was the same stuff in the fancy boxes that cost three times more. I use it mostly for the flowering plants that are in pots but I do sprinkle some around plants in the ground and work it into the dirt. Then you have to water. I have no idea if it helps. I also have some organic fertilizer for vegetable gardens that I got there. they have a pretty good organic section.

  2. I have had no tolerance for manterruptions and mansplaining and all that for years. I can be a downright cold bitch when a man approaches me like that because ever since turning 30 (nearly two decades ago) I was done with all that shit. Because there are great men in the world who are not assholes and I am not an asshole to them. But they need to watch themselves. And I feel that my crankiness is a service to the universe.

    Also, doctors seem to always want to prescribe me valium, usually for physical issues. Like, my chest hurts, give me valium - oh, nope, it's an infection in my rib cage you assholes. So, sometimes I allow them to give it to me and then I have this bottle of pills and what the hell? so I throw them away. plus there was that time I was sleeping with my very hot young doctor and he gave me any meds I wanted. Of course all I wanted was actifed and UTI treatment, but still. Next time somebody forces valium on me, I'm saving it for you. And if the AMA comes after me for such depravity, then I'll save up my crankiness for them. We all need different things, so we should share.

  3. My dentist prescribed me ten Valium for dental surgeries I had. I took two before the last procedure, which leaves eight. I had a bad day the other day and considered taking one or six. But I couldn't do it, because I may need them later. What in the world makes us think like that?

  4. Ellen Abbott- I agree. The man on my walk might truly have just been trying to be friendly but honestly- what right did he have to interrupt two women talking? And then to continue on with it- "I bet you're a teacher!"
    As to fertilizer- I know that my garden is probably not balanced as to pH. I should probably throw some lime to it. I don't know. I should test the soil. I guess I'm too lazy.

    NOLA- I originally asked for Ativan, knowing far better than to ask for Xanax. Like- maybe? four? She refused those but gave me the Valium. I think maybe ten at that time. But hell yes- anytime anyone gives you Benzo's, I will gladly take them. I use them for medication, not for fun. I promise you.
    And yeah- I'm with you on the men thing. I find nothing at all wrong with The Sheik or Bubba asking me if I've been okay because they haven't seen me lately. I find that sweet and comforting. But do NOT tell me what to do or not to do. I'm over it. As in...suck my dick.
    God. Maybe I AM going crazy.

    Catrina- It's probably just a holdover from ancient times when we had to decide what seeds to plant for new crops and what to hold on to to cook in case of shortages and starvation. You know? And..."Don't eat that mammoth haunch! You're already full and I can smoke it for next winter!" "Don't eat the berries, you fool! I'm drying those to make pies with for the solstice!" Etc.

  5. That is a wonderful photo of you and Jack.

  6. I totally get it. On more than one occasion I have had some old guy - it's always old and always a guy - come up to me and say..."smile, it can't be that bad". (Isn't it amazing, I don't think a woman would ever do that)

    Well ya know what? It can be that bad. Sometimes I say that and the I tell them I have cancer, or that my house just burned down. And then I say straight out - "don't ever say that to any one else ever again, because you just never know." They always pull back and say "I'm so sorry, I should have thought of that." Well, yeah!
    One even touched my arm once, ya' don't wanna know what I said to him, but he looked like he was going to cry!

    Your plants sound wonderful as does your garden. I have no space for a garden anymore but I'm looking for a Lantana plant.
    Don't know if you have them there, but I just love their smell.

  7. e- Thank you! I do so love my familiars.

  8. This reminds me how i resent so much when people warn women not to go out in the woods/wilderness alone. Ya, it certainly isn't the 4-legged varmints that scare us the most.

  9. If THAT is going crazy then up is down and down is up.

  10. Each day is an adventure in itself. I'm finishing off an especially shitty day and coming here and reading has calmed me.

  11. I had a day where I deemed an Ativan useful - even knowing it was one more less I'd have. Dealing with health insurance - whether I was going to be terminated or kept on. EIGHT days from surgery in my second eye. I stayed in bed the afternoon after the conversations with various government workers and then felt my self slide. Now I'm numb and depreseed. I know whatever happens will happen and I have no control but damn, let me have my second eye done. Please.

  12. That Sponge episode was golden -- I had forgotten about it, so thanks for the laugh. I also laughed (I'm sorry) at your encounter with the worried old man and your take on being irritated by men in general. I hear you. The mansplaining thing is beyond irritating on the worst days and only slightly amusing on the best. I do hope that your Wednesday is a better one and that if it isn't, you'll splurge and that the Valium.

  13. I can absolutely see why that guy pissed you off, the implication being that you can't manage your life and property. I don't know why people can't mind their own business. Would have said that to a man whose wallet was in his shopping cart?

    It sounds like a good idea to resist the call of the Valium as much as possible!

  14. Liv- I tell you what- old men who want to tell me what to do or how to feel better stay the fuck away from me. We do have Lantana. It sort of grows wild here.

    Ajax- Ain't that the damn truth!

    NOLA- Well, I can't discount that theory either.

    Jill- I am so glad. I hope you got good sleep.

    Joanne- Oh for god's sake! Yes! You need your other eye done. May it be so!

    Elizabeth- "Mansplaining" is my favorite new word. I wish there were no reason for it to exist but since it does...
    This day is looking to be a bit better than yesterday.

    Steve Reed- Right? No. He'd figure that a man wouldn't be so stupid as to leave his money in plain view.
    I am saving those Valium for when I really need them. I promise.

  15. Old men telling us what to do infuriates me too! One that lived next door to my Mom, who knocked on her door and told her she needed to pressure wash her house. One that yelled at me not to open the cap to put transmission fluid in my running car, he thought I was opening the oil cap, I was NOT. I hoard the meds also. Gail

  16. Ugh, my mother in law does this if I walk with an open handbag. Also about putting a coat on, or going into the pub alone. It pisses me off too.

    Having said that, I'm kind of surprised no one's robbed me, as I'm such an easy, clueless target most of the time.

    Mansplainin', though. Ain't nobody lovin that.

    I'm glad you have your Valium amulet. Vamulet?


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