Well, folks.  Bad news.  Very.  baby MacBook v.2.1 is basically DEAD.

I’m not even touching it until I get to the shop.  There,  the wonderful woman (who I’ve been working with forever) can discuss a solution.  Apart from an immediate backup.

That was planned a long time ago but numerous problems kept preventing it.  It’s still okay though.  No data lost, hard drive in tact as far as I suspect. 

Why wouldn’t it be from logging on, then logging off and seeing my version of Safari is now fucked.  I didn’t touch shit and immediately shut down. 

So I’m not going to be around for a while.  My phone can’t do anything but a garbage Post like this.  I can’t get back to Comments properly either. 

Twitter? Oh my God’s Purple Earth! So if you’ve sent me a Follow on Twitter, just hang in there! I’m not ignoring you!

I need to look into iPads and if they travel/stream on the road.  Wi-Fi + Cellular as opposed to just Wi-Fi.  That might tide me over.

If not, take the bloody plunge into more debt.  Thank all Deities I can get a three month no payment plan!


Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

…or the girl gets PA?

Either way, it’s official.

I’m not going to be blogging about things between, or about us though.  Maybe later in the future.  We’ve decided to keep our relationship off blog.

I have a girlfriend.

Quel-fucking-surprise.  No, it really is fucked up.

However, that is how the Multiverse works.  It’s really fucked up too.  So, it just dropped a big bomb on me.  Perhaps I’m now the other version (or perhaps one of many other versions) of myself. That’s why this has happened.


I won’t even go near String Theory.

I’m sorry, but with my Mac dying I can’t get access to my own Post! So I’d just like to thank you for adding to the thread.  It’s such a hard issue.

Further, you’re eating regular meals and it’s still happening. That’s HOW you stop Night Eating Syndrome/Disorder.  Eat regular meals and it basically just stops.

I’m not a Dietician.  Maybe you should see one? I don’t know what else I can suggest.  Maybe switching or swapping what you’re eating might help with your metabolism? That’s where a good Dietician could come in.

Take care,

NOTE: The Post in question is called, “Why I Wake Up Starving in the Middle of the Night.”

Bedridden. Again.
I saw Sweetie GP today.
Rest. Rest. Rest.
Pneumonia. Pneumonia. Pneumonia.
Rest. Rest. Rest.

I’ve postponed everything I am/was attending/had to do.  I know I have Comments here as well.

Zombie Answer?

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

She’s now sick. I’m still coughing and hacking and ready to die (oh, no possible girlfriend.)

Doctor tomorrow to say WTF? At least a HUGE WTF for me. I was wrong as well. The last course of antibiotics is today. I’m just not feeling the healthy love.

I wonder about this girl, though. It makes me question does the idiom: Love at first sightactually exist. Because it definitely does for her. That’s a big question about the other men and women she’s been with.

However, it will easily asked and answered. This girl communicates like a very large number of the Aspie Crowd. Everything is just puked out if I ask.

To tell? A lot of things. CP (she was hiding half of her face in a hoodie.) Other complicated and I’d need to research and also being shy. That’s to meet.

How do I feel? Completely confused. o_O

Well, not so much anymore I guess. She prefers older women. More fun. Interesting?

Same fucking deal with me. Get a look at that face? Check. Move on to everything else. More Checks.

Hell, I might go for less Checks. I’m getting older. Slim chances. Then maybe this little angel wants me so much. Maybe.

I still have to meet her. But a good match for two people with chronic conditions, mental stuff, get sick a lot.

Hard to find.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

I don’t even know if I should be writing this because right now. I only have bits and bobs (or shreds) of my cerebellum all over my apartment floor. You might see an odd neuron or two.

Hospital wasn’t psych. Another explosion of pneumonia, with fevers so high, I get tossed into isolation. This was #4.

Usually, they just throw antibiotics at me after rehydration and lowering my fever. The glass doors open and they give me a taxi chit to go home.

Not this time. When bed on Respiratory Floor, up I go. Only to be discharged too early.

They even had the guts to tell me. You seem well enough, and we need SO MANY beds.




ENOUGH about this. You would not believe how much energy it takes to write a post like this. I might say to hell with proofing.

The girlfriend? SERIOUS teaser about that as we’re meeting tomorrow.

However, we already met under different circumstances. She had some dying to get outside. Thus, I thought someone who lives here.

I had to pick up signed documents, so we started chatting. Although, she kept trying to hide in her hoodie from me.

That’s gotta tell ya at least somethin’

She sent a txt. Private and I didn’t know the number! Instant Freak Out! *laughing*  Her.

I’ve been trying to make friends in this building so long. How odd if I get a girlfriend outside of it! o.O

But nothing is certain. No problems…
…but she fucking plays Professional Wheelchair Basketball!!! How cool is that? She’s not in a wheelchair though.

Ageism is out the window too! Thank god.

Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves…I’ll let you know. I’m holding all the cards though. She’s going crazy over me. I cannot understand that. How could I DO that?

Now rest!

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

No.  Not at all.  I’ve had the most painful and…  It would make you cry! Virus or Bacterial Infection for about 10 Days now.

However, it feels more like 18.  Or a little less?

But the bitch of it is, it’s gotten WAY out of control.  WAY.  WAY, WAY, WAY, WAY! The only things I can put me are clear things.  No solid things–even of these are beverages.

I always have to eject sugar and lactose or things (get worse.)   I have seriously ejected but now, but I don’t think there’s much of my stomach or my entire gastro system is left.  Definitely my lower bowel and colon! Actually, I’m taking Buckley’s Complete and it is burning a hole as well.

I’ve called and a doctor will be coming to see me.  ETA late afternoon into the night.

Yes, we have a service where I live where you can get “House Calls.”  Oh, yeah! I can’t move, when I walk I’m dizzy and have almost fallen down completely.

Okay, you got the picture.  Even writing this is killing me.  I had to wait until I sent an email to my mother.  Fucking Ridiculous.

P.S. I wonder if I got this from the guys who treated my place for bedbugs.  The fumes didn’t go away until at least the next day.  Eep! My Immune System is shit compared to others anyway

I’m willing to bet a lot of Aspies and people on the Spectrum will agree with me.

Or maybe not.  Diva, Fashionista, Spectrumicalista!

Do we care about clothes? Sure, we might find something that looks really cool but it ain’t be off The Runway!

We’ll also wear it for an entire week.  Plus, it’ll be with the other clothes we’ve been wearing for an entire week.

And we’ll always keep putting everything on backwards.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

Hi.  Do whatever you want with your Livers or mine.  Mine’s up to me.  And mine?

I blew a week of sobriety tonight.  And Outpatient Group is tomorrow.

I’m still sitting in the bar where at one (recent) point I was drinking (now?) such heavy amounts of alcohol every day.  

Cheese and Rice! I’m so altered, I have my Senns on but I haven’t pumped up iTunes!

Y’see? Okay.  iTunes.  Goth.

Why am I drinking after that week was so goddamn easy? It was!!!

Work in my apartment that took hours.  My neighbourhood? Exactly the title of the song I’m listening to right now: “Wasteland” (by The Mission UK.”)  There’s nothing here.

Except a Public Library.  But the work was done too late.  Closed.  Only one place to go.  Three to four hours to wait to go home…where I drink…all the time…and recently every day, or if it was closed, a place across the street.

I brought books, notebooks to write…summon the muse…let her summon you…

Within a half hour hour I caved.  But it’s worse.  While I’m typing this to you? I went home.  I smelled my apartment and felt so sick that I was going to be fumigated too…fucking bedbugs…I opened the window, grabbed baby MacBook and headed right back to the pub.

Now I’m over limit.

I’d rather drink until I fall down…that would take?…well, I’ve had four double Vodkas Neat (i.e. no ice, soda or any of that shit–it’s a sipping drink like whisky.)  So eight drinks? That’s past my limit (limit=three.)  Fuck it.

Genetics.  But as a teenager, always the “good girl.”  Sure, the “initiation” to drinking alcohol for the first time, your first hangover.  You’re a total joke when you look back on yourself.

Enter Bipolar.  Not even knowing I was for about seven years? I could drink most men under the table.  I’m not joking.  That’s why I can sit here and and write a blog post to you.  All calm, treated…no, no…my meds are perfect.  Actually, I mean that.  After SO many years, my cocktail is perfect *takes last ounce of vodka as a shot and heads to bar*

Two more shots=drinks etc. yeah, okay, whatever.  And I’m still here writing.  Does it make sense to you? Still? Maybe it never did from the start.  That’s okay.  It never made any sense to me from the start.

Those years.  Seven? Party.  Go out for lunch with colleagues, then do the same after work.  Alcohol was always downed and drowned.  The first thing out of the mouth I heard when I one of new Manager: “I don’t trust people who don’t drink.”

I partied with friends too.  A wonderful friend always said to me, “It sure helps to sleep fast, doesn’t it, PA?” That was during the Fet. Scene but I drank every day, every night.

There were casualties.  Far too many.

I don’t even know if I was one of them.  If so, surely a lesser one.  That’s how I see it anyway.

Cheers.  And a good song running through my Senns…

“But Not Tonight” by Depeche Mode.

When you AD(H)D Stims kick in hard if they’re the right ones or if they’re going to work at all.  I took my first dose of (then) Concerta and I couldn’t believe it! I had a jaunty little step as this song came up on my iPod (perfect?) and I cried.

That what I might be.  If I’m not already.  If I am, I’ll just become a bigger one. 

Still Comments waiting for responses.  More left will be not forgotten.  They will only take even more time.

I was trying to draw up a schedule of all the things I need to do now.  On a napkin in a bar.  How many times have I said this is the end? No more drinking.  No more smoking.  I can’t even count.

Today (or tonight) is it.  It must be.  I’ll get to why.  The “why” is how the fuck to get the schedule sorted.  I don’t want have a fuck of a clue about the biggest one.

Outpatient Treatment to get me clean or treated and things to do to try and stop, shit like CBT or DBT? Making plans and that garbage.

Goddamn DBT.  I hate that broad and she severely needs to dress better.  I can’t decide which is worse.  Her Treatment Model or her Wardrobe.

So.  My Therapist every two weeks.  The Outpatient Program two days every week.  I desperately need Physio now so who knows heaven or that will bring.

Wednesday and/or Friday best for that, but what will be needed and what will my schedule be for them?

Any doctors appts I can squeeze in probably anywhere.  Am I missing anything? I’m too tired to think.

Partly because I drank so much to give myself a serious Going Away Party.  Music for the party was blasting The Offspring.

But why am I REALLY doing it now?

20 year dream.  And they believe in me.  Even if I can’t do it now.  A Dojo right beside me.  I’ve always wanted my Black but I’ll take any bloody colour now.

Just because I did it.  I made it.  20 years of dicking around, pissing about, and procrastination now biting me hard in the ass.

But if and when I can get stronger.  I can probably do something.

And back to my crazy schedule and being some kind of ghost? I might kill myself trying to do all of this all at once.
Just so you know.

Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?

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