Vilkommen, bienvenue, and welcome to What's Your Fucking Problem! It's my first time hosting WYFP in the After Elizabeth D era of the diary series.
I feel obligated to post the diary's short FYI (below), and I feel funny about repeating the traditional request for mojo and recommends... but if it's tradition, what the heck. Please recommend if you feel so inclined :)
WYFP's Mission
WYFP is our community's Saturday evening gathering to talk about our problems, empathize with one another, and share advice, pootie pictures, favorite adult beverages, and anything else that we think might help. Everyone and all sorts of troubles are welcome.
I've put some thought into what to say here in the diary. Do I do something philosophical talking about the nature of the commonly bitched about problems and the role of our community here to comfort and console one another? Perhaps I should talk about the number of times Kossacks really have helped me solve problems - everything from computer help to career advice. Just bring it up and chances are a Kossack can help.
Or perhaps I should use the space to bitch about my own problems. I had a particularly bad headache yesterday. I started going down hill in the afternoon when I was out for my walk and I started feeling dizzy. I got a bite to eat and a drink and I sat down for a bit before going home. By 4pm, I knew that I was pretty screwed, so I took an anti-nausea pill and half a Vicodin and got in bed. Around 9pm I emailed a friend who might have some herbal headache remedies handy, but I fell asleep before he called back. My head's been feeling funny today but that's partially because I went to a conference about food justice and they had fluorescent lights and other fun things.
But really, I'm sick of talking about headaches. If you've got one every day, you just get sick of hearing yourself say "I have a headache" - even if it's true. And I suppose there are other problems in my life... job stuff, boy stuff, family stuff, money stuff, the usual. But I'm in a pretty good mood and I'm not really feeling the urge to complain!
Perhaps I am totally blind about the future and I am stupid to be so happy (I've been out of work for six months and I'm living on Bat Mitzvah money), but I met an author I've been hearing about for months today (Michele Simon) and I bought her book Appetite for Profit too. It's 77 and sunny outside here, and for some reason, I've had an incredibly easy time meeting boys here in San Diego. Maybe it's because the weather is nice enough that you can walk around half naked all year round. I've had an easier time meeting them than keeping them, but at least that's a start!
Tomorrow's the farmers' market and I'm excited to get apples, asparagus, and brussel sprouts. Plus, I met a Kossack who has offered to take me diving! And another Kossack (The Gryffin) drew an amazingly wonderful picture to make Vegetables of Mass Destruction T-shirts. (See a close up here and see the shirt here) So even if the bank DOES foreclose on my house - as it is threatening to do - I'm just not that upset about it. Now if only I could find a way to get paid for breathing, I'd be set!
I guess the moral of this story is that the antidepressants that are currently trendy to prevent migraines don't always get rid of your headaches, but they sure do make you happier about living with a constant migraine all your life.