Meds

While in an unrelated discussion one of my friends mentioned that while she was taking the meds that I am currently taking she went nuts. It got me thinking, could my meds (which I don't need to live, but prefer not having to live with not having them) be part, probably not all, of my crazies?

It's an idea that hadn't crossed my mind, it makes sense, but after nearly ten years taking them (that number is frightening) why now? Or really why not just October and February which are the months I usually catch the crazies.

To all the folks who keep talking about the horrors of this new medical reform just remember I cannot go to a doctor to change my meds because I don't have insurance or the $200 give or take that it would cost to do so uninsured, but if my medication is part of my problem I run the risk of glassing someone, wrecking my car into pedestrians and walking out on my job. If I do any of these three things I run the risk of harming myself in the process (the deer are trying very hard to harm me) I'll actually cost you more as a tax payer because I'm not only uninsured, I'm underemployed, and would not be expected to foot my bill because well I'd starve to death if I had to pay for more than a doctors visit for a simple illness.

Ok, well that got a little heavy. It's sort of a response to the shit I get from the people I work with, I am scum to them for not having health insurance. They are scum to me, living on maxed out credit cards, strumpeting around and spending their miserable lives bitching about everything there is to bitch about (you ladies know who you are).

I am not going to run anyone over, not intentionally anyhow you pedestrians need to wear lighter colors when crossing three lanes of traffic before dawn. I won't harm myself either, I think talking about the crazies worries people. Come January I'm going to the doctor, I'm going to the dentist and I'm buy contacts, the one pair I have has lasted too long as is. I'm also going to refill all my prescriptions. And when January rolls around after my appointments and all, I'm going to change shit. I don't know how but I will.

Deer: It's What's For Dinner

It happens to be hunting season. I'm not a participant, though in a strangely uncharacteristic twist I don't particularly mind it, in a hunter and gatherer sort of way. I'm a fan of venison stew, jerky and the like. I'm not really a fan of heads on walls but if you ate the rest of it, I'll let it pass. But come on people!

I keep waking up in the sounds of gun shots. Gun shots are not supposed to happen in the middle of the night, I'm pretty sure that hunting after dark is illegal, if not it's super duper stupid. The other day I was taking a different route on my run and saw a lovely shot up sign. I can only assume it was a drunken mistake: sign, deer, person they all look the same as you drive by in the dark.

What astounds me the most is how proud people are about the deer they kill. There are numbers involved like sports, stories and silly lingo. It's so bad that people trade the meat like cards. Hell, you kill a cow you freeze that for yourself, but not a deer you split your prize for bragging rights.

Antlers usually constitute a lasting trophy- for the wall  or the back window of the truck, perhaps a coat rack (that's a bit of a pun, hehe). One would think that for a trophy to count you'd have to shoot the deer yourself, but I may have thought wrong. The other day I was driving home from work at dusk and there was a small crowd gathered in the median. I figured it was the aftermath of an accident or people decorating the pine tree, I was wrong. There was one man standing bewildered and stupid, one man hold half a deer's rack and the third man was holding a saw. It wasn't a hit and snatch the trophy, that deer has been there laying on the side of the road for a while.

I still don't know why the bewildered man was there, he didn't walk away with the other two, he didn't have another car.

Deer Make Me Sad

You've seen the movie Bambie, yes? It's not a particularly uplifting film unless you think dead mothers and absent fathers are hella awesome. Lately the deer have been bringing me down in real life. They're everywhere trying to make me wreck my car, they make the sides of the roads foul when I am running and apparently they're pooping all over the back yard.

Partly this problema comes about because of the time of year- hunting season. The poor dears are scared that some stupid hunter is going to shoot them and not eat them (tis a cryin' shame to not eat the venison) so they dash wildly about in front of cars--during the day no less. I have yet to get one (and in writing this I am jinxing myself) but not for their lack of trying.

You should have seen it the other day. I walked downstairs to see Hope running through the backyard screaming like a wacko. Apparently, since my dog died in September, it is Hope's job to chase the deer out of the yard. Yeah, it seems weird but Hope is about the same weight as the dog. She moves quicker then he did at the end so they freak and flee.

Poor deer, being chased by teenagers and gun toting rednecks, it's no excuse to commit suicide under my tires.