This is just a temporary page, a place to jot down my thoughts instead of simply not updating my old page because the layout of the whole thing makes me sick. Eventually it will be pretty (no really ... I promise), there will be links, a page where I can thank the person who made the top image and the border ... and perhaps more of TKCWC and / or links to the old page.


A rather troublesome week comes to an end. Work was crap ... I feel like a firewoman, extinguishing emergency after emergency.

Perhaps on the meagre positive side, yet another person who I rather dislike is leaving next week. The only one left is the old dude who keeps saying the same thing over and over again. He is supposed to come back this week after a month long sick leave. Hopefully he will go into retirement quickly enough. If this keeps going on, in a few months I'm pretty confident I'll qualify as having "irrational thoughts". Each and every person I didn't like in this office is gone. Maybe all those negative vibes did the trick. Maybe I should send my resume to Bush and offer to make Sadam and Osama go away.

By the end of this month, without counting outstanding debt that people will owe me, I should be less than a grand from 10k in the bank. Finally. Its about time. Actually, if I can manage to pool my stuff from the Royal Bank and put all that money I counted last week, I'll have it. It's a sort of psychological goal. With that, I believe I can spend a really frugal year ... even without EI. So that would be 1.5 year total peace.

But I'm definitely not going to wait until that happens. I've started applying for jobs. Four economist positions last week and this week it will be four or five (not sure actually) advisor positions. If I get any of those jobs, it will mean a hefty pay raise. In a way, I hope I get a raise for where I am right now ... as in I hope I manage to win one of those CO2 positions that will open up. But I'm also rather tired of not being paid enough with regards to the amount of work I produce.

This summer, I spend sooo many days with not much to do whereas now I get in early and leave late and I still don't get all that I want to do done. Hopefully I've made it clear to my boss that I am at the limit. I'm still surfing above the wave but put in some more and I'll plunge deep under. Hopefully Chretien will leave early and the chamber will get prorogated soon. That would leave us some breathing room.

I'm also having trouble with our new assistant. Its as if she's not all there. I gave her something last week and she didn't do anything with it ... and if that wasn't enough, she shredded a damned document that I needed. Bleh. So now I'm stuck with one who doesn't do anything if I don't specify every little detail and another one who's head seems to be somewhere else. Joy.

But enough with work, its depressing me more as I talk about it ... not to mention that in less than 8 hours I'll be back in the office. Droning away.

I had a bunch of strange nightmares about Beachboy's death this weekend. I dreamt that it wasn't him who died ... but rather someone from my past ... someone I don't like. He did not hang himself but rather bled to death in the bathtub. The bloated ugly white skin and his hair ... long dark red strands in the water. The feelings that accompanied this dream were somewhat awkward. It was not pain and not true sadness either. Morbidly fascinated indifference perhaps. Maybe it was a way for my mind to deal with it. To put someone I don't like in Beachboy's place ... to make it less painful and more easily put in the back of my mind where it will not bother me as much.

Its sad how his death has affected the whole building. The leaves aren't raked as often ... the patio is not cleaned like it usually is and I don't hear any laughter in the evening. I think Grandpa Beer is not taking it well.

I still feel strange whenever I pass his apartment or see the mail accumulate in his box. I peeked through one of the windows and the place was empty. And yet, I still expect to see him smile and go "Hey Helen! How you doing?" as I pass. Its as if his ghost has not left yet.

I hope once someone new settles in that feeling will change.


Boring day spent "running" after a document. I'm becoming way too cynical for my age. When I hear "adult situations" all I can picture in my mind are people doing their tax report.

I was looking through my hotmail junk today ... cleaning up the drafts and such.

I have to write something to the university teacher who helped me find someone when I needed to.

To thank her for her trouble.

I also came upon something old ... a song that he wrote ... supposedly inspired by me (not Beachboy ... rather someone no longer part of my life) and all I could think as I deleted it was that the title "Beyond Bloodshot" was not quite right. A more suitable one would have been :

"Beyond Bullshit"

May it never rise from the broken bits pile it now lies in.


Beachboy killed himself yesterday ... or maybe it was Sunday night, I don't know the details. He apparently hung himself. I'm still not sure how I felt about this. Numb I guess. I'm torn between sadness and anger. I think its sad that he decided to do that, but at the same time I feel angry. How dare he go and kill himself after making friends with me? How dare he looked so happy and smile like that? I talked to him last Thursday and he seemed happy and fine. What the hell could have happened? Just when I was happy that I knew someone else a little bit more. Am I contagious?

Tonight his parents came to pick up his things ... I passed them and I just couldn't say anything. Hopefully the look on my face told them how I felt.

Its rather ironic how I could go about, thinking about suicide about a personal choice ... and yet here it comes, smacking me right back in the face and, in a way, such a rationalization can't make the anger and sadness go away, because its fuelled by our own selfishness.


Second day cold turkey and still feeling good. The "restless leg" thing is getting better and my head is clearer. I slept decently but woke up a few times between 4AM and 6AM. I'm definitely feeling better though.

Last day of the week and I can't wait to get the heck out of here.

The shrink gave me alist of things to look for when trying to decide wether someone is a manipulator ... mainly with regards to my father. It turns out he's got most of them ... but I have quite a few as well :P

Be afraid, be very afraid.


THAT'S IT! I've given it long enough and I'm pissed off and tired. I've spent the past month hallucination- free but also like a zombie. My thoughts were unclear, I felt sleepy all the time and it was as though my mind was in a permanent fog. So enough is enough! I'm coming off the anti-psychotics right now! I don't care about the withdrawal effects, I want to be myself again! Screw the doctors and screw the head shrinkers!

Living like this, with the equivalent of a half brain is no life at all. It gave me suicidal thoughts ... and was slowing me down too much. My memory was starting to really fail and it made me confused. Hell! How many times in the pas month did I have to pause while making my jolt ... confused for a few seconds, wondering what came next ... or doing the wrong thing like forgetting to put water in the machine or pouring the cold milk in my mug instead of the steamer pot?!? HELLO!?! Many times I would get to a part of my house and then wonder why the heck I had been going there.

I want my memory back, I want my mind back. I've thought it over and I think I'd rather not sleep and see purple dragons on the street instead of feeling like a total retard all the time. I didn't take it last night and already this morning I saw a difference. I only slept 6 hours but I got up fine, wide awake and not stuck in the damned fog ... needing to sleep more and more.

It's the afternoon and I am still alive and well. No sleepiness. I managed to get a few non-work related things done today; which is more than I can say for the past two weeks.

I think the weight loss has started again. Its just an intuition as, just like a VCR, I don't own a scale. But I guess stopping the Seroquel will take care of it and end it. It was a neat side effect but unfortunately his brothers were not so amusing.

I wish I had artistic talent. I wish I could show the world the images in my head. All the dark images I could rip from my thoughts and perhaps, in so doing, exorcise them forever.


The joy at marvelling at the pathetic nature of so many people of my generation. The lonely goth-boy from the back country, suffering from an obvious inferiority complex, the college student who's immature insults are rivalled only by his bad writing skills, the rpg fan, desperately holding on to his past achievement ... perhaps to shield himself of his lack of current accomplishments, and last but not least, the lowly pill- popping public servant who pours out her heart to her wordprocessor every now and then because she does not have the social skills to do otherwise.

I feel that I am part of a generation of spoiled and immature kids, who will fare very badly once the BB generation has left completely. I wonder if we will survive time with ourselves.

Isn't 25 years a bit too young to be this cynical?


Yet again, sad Sunday and I have to go home. I'm a bit disappointed by the weekend. Not because of anybody's doing but for the blasted weather who keeps robbing me of my precious time with my s.o. When its warm and muggy (felt like 35 celcius) I do the human version of the "flat rat" syndrome. I lay sprawled on the bed or sofa and can't seem to find the energy to do anything. I don't like to be touched when I feel that way. It just adds to the heat. And it also makes me feel like I'm imprisoned in the blasted heat because outside the sun just shines and shines. I want perpetual fall. Hell, I want a REAL fall. Its not supposed to be this warm. I should be wearing a coat ... not feeling sorry I didn't bring any shorts.

I'm supposed to go see the shrink next week. For some reason I don't really look forward to it. Perhaps because I failed to make any progress with my dad. I did see him but it was bland, boring, frustrating and all I could think of was that I wanted to go home and be far far away from them.

In a sadistic and perhaps narcissic twist of fate, my older half sister is still in trouble. Apparently something happened with the owner of the ranch and they discovered he's into crime big time so she can't really get him arrested. So, as usual, she went back to live with them ... along with her husband and two kids.

In a way this is slightly good for me because it means they have something else to do aside from bothering me. I guess it also explains the absence of telephone calls in the last few weeks. But on the other hand, I feel a bit angry at her. She is 35 years old and still can't seem to be able to take care of herself. I've seen both my father and his s.o. pick her up from drug addiction, money problems, abusive husbands, getting kids and not being able to take care of them. I feel bad for them. It seems to me that there comes a time when they should be able to stop having to save her from ... well pretty much herself. I just wish they could enjoy a break ... you know, be happy and such.

In my most dark thoughts, I wished she would die of an overdose ... or kill herself. I know, its horrible, but how can you wish otherwise when you see someone draining away someone you care for. I don't feel an overall strong attachment to my dad and his s.o. but I hate to see them be used like that. I also despise her for deciding to have kids. Its none of my business, but the hell those little kids have had to witness, it just shouldn't be. A five year old should never have worries such as money, food, shelter, etc. I hate the fact that they might end up like her, in a dangerous abusive relationships pattern.

The sad part is, I think her kids are both a consequence and a cause in the cycles she goes through. Having two young children depend on you while you yourself are not feeling well, its 100 times harder to get better.

When I look at both my sisters, I'm saddened. Not because of who they are or what they do, but because it lets me see the perverse side effect that my father and his s.o. have had on them. They were and are still very controlling. When I was young, everything was decided for me, my word had absolutely no weight. Though in return, I was very spoiled and loved and cherished ... but only as long as I followed the rules. Luckily for me, my biological mother is the absolute opposite of those two. She made her own way in life and always pushed me to do things by myself. I truly think this is what saved me. I learned to do things by myself, to make mistakes, to make choices, to work hard, etc. Had it not been for the years I spent living with her, I think I would have stayed in a sort of retarded dependent state ... and perhaps do as both my half sisters did, and rebel, to just slam the door to get away from it all.

Its pathetic to see how this desire to protect one's child can turn to poison and make them run away ... into the jaws of those monsters you were so eager to protect them from in the first place.

This, and the lives of my half sisters, are probably a big portion of why I don't want to have kids. I don't want to bring a little being in the world and not be able to provide him with all he needs. I also don't wish what I've lived and felt onto anybody else. And the sad part is that even if I don't want to, I know I would be an overprotective parent. Just the overwhelming protective instinct I feel for my pets, I'd probably go psycho with a human being.

But enough with this, it's a depressive subject. Guess why I don't like family matters? Because my family (or at least half of it) is a very sad one.

On Saturday, my s.o. invited some new found friends over for some cheese fondue. They were a nice couple, but I didn't really feel involved. Its true that I've only met them once ... but I don't know, I felt strangely uncomfortable. But I'm quite lucky to have an s.o. who is definitely a social animal. He will talk about this and that, make people laugh, tell jokes, etc. Basically entertain people. So when I'm with him, it gives me an exit ... I can just erase myself ... listen ... not talk much. In a way his social skills are a shield for me. Some might say its not a good thing, that I shouldn't hide behind him. I felt like that a lot in the past; frustrated at my introvertedness. But I'm not sure I can ever get over it, change the way I am in such a deep way. Maybe its just the way I'm supposed to be. If I were a total extrovert, I'm sure life with my s.o. would be total hell because we'd always be competing for "air time" and social space. I guess we just complete each other. Its like that legend that says were used to be joined at the hand and feet with another being, face to face, in total happiness and harmony. But something happened and everyone got separated ... and now we go on living miserable ... searching for that special someone who completes us ... who will make us whole again. And there are quite a few days that I feel I've found MY perfect match.


Yet another proof that despite the whole pseudo self-confidence, the sensation of feeling better, I realized this week that I may FEEL happier ... but I'm still as brittle as I used to be. This concerns me for two reasons : 1) I feel that my mind has slowed. In a way, perhaps, it is clearer and the panic doesn't set in. But on the other hand, I feel as though I am losing part of my cognitive abilities, sort of like never being truly awake. 2) I broke down yesterday because I made a mistake at work. I didn't do my job properly ... I overlooked something, thinking that a document was another one and my co-worker didn't get the information he needed in time. And here I was, hoping to get a promotion ... ya. Nice timing. I just had to go and make an idiot of myself. Maybe I'm not ready for it.

My boss understood and I managed to get the information so my co-worker can do his job properly next week. I just can't get over the fact of how stupid my mistake was. I could I have NOT SEEN the damned title. Did I not read it properly? Was I fucking asleep for a whole week? I'm so mad at myself. I feel like bashing my head into the wall. All through the other session, I was careful, I never made a mistake, I was the only one who didn't miss a damned note, who didn't bring the information in late.

To think that something like that, a human mistake was all it took. At first I felt angry and ashamed. But when I got home the apathy truly set in. I sat there in front of the TV ... unable to do anything. I just sat there with my leg twitching as it is always now (another funky side effect I guess). I didn't do my laundry, I didn't get my rats' litter. All I could bring myself to do was change their litter boxes.

I talked to my s.o. on the phone but it wasn't enough. I mean its not his fault because its not as if he could have said or done anything to make me feel better. Its just my mind that's screwed up and likes torturing me. I went to bed but I couldn't sleep ... all I could do is cry as the suicidal thoughts flooded my mind. Such a small setback and I already wanted to leave. I battled with the mutilation urges, but I lost it for a few minutes. Not totally bad but I'm sort of angry as the healing was coming on quite well these last few weeks. It didn't go too far though. I'll have a sore foot for a few days but nothing that can't be managed.

I didn't know what to do so I got Slinky out of her cage and let her play in my room. She usually plays in the kitchen, living room and bathroom but she had never been in my room before so she was so very cautious. She ran back and forth ... climbed on my chest and stood there on two legs, stretched as high as she can, sniffing the air and bruxing like mad (for neophytes, bruxing is when a rat chatters his teeth loudly and puffs air in an out quickly ... they do this when they are happy and inquisitive). She would run to the edge of the mattress and then run back. This went on and on. I don't quite understand why, but when I watched her, I felt better. Not really better but, I don't know, I felt responsible ... and when she looks at me with those black beady eyes ... its just utterly impossible to say no or to let her down. Its also nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesn't have a clue what you're saying and thus does not talk back save for the occasional lick and skin grooming.

Yuk! Some idiot on the bus keeps putting nasty-smelling perfume on. Bleh! Confined spaces are NOT the place to put on volatile substances.

Its so weird. There is some guy who keeps changing seats. We've been on the road for less than half an hour and he has changed like three times already. I wonder if he feels sick or something.

I worked a little bit on my memoire this week but not that much. Hopefully staying home next weekend will be helpful.

I've also changed my mind about making a rat cage. I'm going to buy one from Cages by Design inc. Top notch stuff that you can customize as you wish ... stainless steel wire, sliding glass doors, sliding trays, seed guards and a bunch of super neat accessories like fog machines, waterfalls, etc. Its going to cost me a chunk but I think it will be a worthwhile investment as it can be completely disassembled and its easy to move and could work with other animals if, further down the road, I decide to have something else for a pet. If I put together all the damned change I have in my house, I figure its must be close to 600$ ... at least that's what it was last time and this time I'm not using my loonies as I don't need them for wash and the container is full again. Add to that the obscure bank account I have at Royal Bank and that's 650$ or so ... more than enough without having to dip into my tax refund or savings.

I think I'm going to wait a few months to go ahead with the purchase per say. I have other pieces of furniture to buy and if I don't do it now, I know myself ... I'll still be sleeping on a futon right on the floor in 2 years. That's how lazy I am with things like that. With certain type of goods, I feel totally unmotivated in buying. Computers, furniture, electronic stuff like VCR's and DVD players (I own neither). Its as if for me it's a non-need. If it wasn't for my ex, I wouldn't even have a TV at all. When I reach a certain level of basic animalistic comfort, I just don't feel as though the extra trouble is worth it.

Its sort of paradoxal in a way because I like going into stores and watching things so much. Hell, I do it online too. I just look at all those goods but aside from say, rat cages and coffee machines, nothing makes me want to own those things. I can watch infomercials for hours, transfixed by the insanity or stupidity of the products ... and yep ... I'll never buy those. I think its more of the "show" value I enjoy. Just as I do with watching people go about their usual business. I'm a spectator of life at heart.

Two weeks ago, I got two books on dissociation including one highly recommended on depersonalization. But I was very disappointed. Yes I recognize myself in the symptoms of depersonalization ... but I was looking for tricks, tips, ways to control the episodes. I was looking for a way to keep hold of myself or come back when I can't. But the books turned out nothing good. It just went on and on about how is almost always caused repressed memories about being abused. Ya right! As if. Sounds way too alarmist, and borderline paranoid. So anyway, I'm still as clueless as I was before, in that I still don't know how to control it. Pain helps but its both impractical and destructive. Though I have found some sort of halfway solution for when I'm at work. As I start to leave I'll just grab something like a pen or my desk or my chair and squeeze it hard ... as hard as I can until the pain starts and the muscle in my hands get sore. Sometimes its enough to keep me there.

Geez! This is insane ... I'm wearing pants and my leather jacket and I'm literally freezing from the AC. Its so cold, I'm using the laptop fan to warm my hands and I removed my bag from under it so the heat would go more directly to my legs.


Almost halfway through my long weekend. Accomplishments : 0. Significant activities aside from surfing the web, sleeping and eating : 0. Time spent on my memoire : 0. Ya, its prutty pathetic. At least I find some comfort in the thought that I'll be well rested. I think I definately needed the rest.

I spent some time with my strange neighbors this week.

First there is "Grandpa Beer" ... an old guy with some unidentitifed income source. He owns a cute cat that he lets out during the afternoon ... and it guards the porch and gives you a mean scary stare. But he'll let you pass in exchange for a good rub behind the ears.

Then there is "Beach Boy" ... late twenties / early thirties type of guy, blond, slightly muscular and rather nice. From what I understand, he works in building / renovation type stuff. I don't know much about him. He speaks mainly english but understands a bit of french ... as do most people in the Ottawa region.

And finally, there is the "Megalisa". In her twenties, about 300 pounds and barely taller than me. She seems to be working in the shopping center below where I work as I often see her go there early in the morning. I don't know much about her either save that she will be leaving in a couple of months for a coop appartment. I wish I could do that ... those places are usually nicer and cleaner ... and everybody owns part of the place so you have more security.

The three of them seem to form some sort of a "drinking buddy" trio. Every night (week and weekend), they sit outside, drink beers and talk ... from 8PM till something like 11PM. People come and go, sit and chat, share a beer with them and then move on. They say hi to alot of passerbys and laugh at groups of youngsters heading for the bars by calling then N'sync and asking them to do a song. Its prutty funny.

As a note to whoever has not seen where I live, I'm in what they call the old part of town. There used to be tons of bars around there and the place was very lively. Recently, the government and the city have been working on "cleaning up" the place ... but there are still quite a few bars so there is always a rather steady stream of pedestrian traffic heading for them or coming back. On a side note, I found out that the strange wooden grid over the windows of the first floor are not for theft protection but rather because people used to throw empty beer bottles and houses and the owner got tired of having to replace windows. Lovely. One more reason to be happy about living on the second floor.

Aside from crazy Simon, I learned the local drunk's name "Green Giant" ... called like that because he's always clad in dark green pants and shirts and is very tall. Nothing to worry about ... more the drunken silent type.

I finally got my couch. Its about time but it was worth the wait. Its exactly what I wanted, in the color I wanted. I'm having fun indulging myself by buying black things. All my life I've had to suffer parents who wouldn't let me get black sheets, black furniture, black curtains, etc. Now nobody can stop me! Ha! Its alot of work to dust but at the same time is such a calm and comforting color ... or rather lack of.

Work is crap lately. But hopefully with my boss coming back and the main advisor as well, we will be a bit better equipped to face the comming session. In a way its sort of like last summer. I end up covering files I don't know ... but I manage to get by. People are so afraid of unknown files ... its so stupid. Especially since most of the information thats required is usually available on some other government website. Public servants really don't know how to search the web ... its pathetic. When they ask me to go and try to find is such and such report has be filed by NAFTA ... I have to repress the urge to yell to them : EVER HEARD OF GOOGLE? Pfff. Dimwits ... and so many of them.

The coop students are gone ... which is both good and bad. Good because one of them was sort of annoying ... he kept making strange talk to me ... about stuff he saw in the news, stuff he heard and so on ... but every time he talked, I don't know, I felt sort of annoyed. Perhaps because I thought it stupid or rather insignificant. And he kept doing this every morning while I made my coffee.

On the other hand its bad because coop students = slave labor to do the boring work you don't want to do. But its not always good stuff. I get slightly frustrated at their general lack of persistence or the need to "guide" them. I'm more of the independent type. Tell me exactly what you want and don't come bothering me ... I'll get back to you when its done ... thats how I work. So I find it rather annoying to have to micromanage someone. Its also annoying to have to go over their work and change it or verify it because its often incomplete and such. So in the end, I'm not sure if I end up saving time at all. Maybe next summer when we get a new one I'll try and prepare a project but with very clear expectations and instructions so that there is no need to micromanage.

I think I have to work on delegating more ... but also better ... I find that with our admin assitant, when I ask for things done, if its tedious or long, it ends up botched. Maybe if I do like at CIBC (i.e. send back the work for a second round of corrections if there are mistakes) it will help cultivate a appreciation for detail and well done work. I find that alot of things are botched. It might seem trivial but just the way things are made and written. Its so inconsistent, ugly, ill-concieved, hard to understand. After spending 5 years with detail freaks who could spot an extra space after a coma from 3 miles away, I think a part of their perfectionism has "contaminated" me.

Speaking of which. Well, not really. This has no link to the previous paragraph but I really want to write about my bus trip before I forget it.

So basically, I left my appartment around 10:30PM, hoping to catch the 11PM bus ... which happened to suffer from a rather annoying flaw : not existing. So I ended up waiting an extra hour, which did nothing to help my even-worsening migrane. So anyway, much to my surprise, the 12PM bus was packed. I choose a window seat near the front of the bus and start to read.

Meanwhile, an asian girl sits in the aisle seat in the row just in fron of mine. She starts streatching and decides to tilt the seat all the way back. Of course it didn't bother me because a) I was not sitting behind her seat and b) I do happen to be a member of the 5% of the general population for which bus seats are not too small. Anyway, a latecomer, some asian guy comes in and sits behind me. His legs couldn't even fit in front of him, he had to spend the whole trip with his knees sideways. Sufice to say, tilting your seat like that girls did is really nasty etiquette.

So the bus starts and I read ... but after a while it gets boring so I close my eyes. Not one minute later, I'm awaken by a rude "if your not using the light, turn it off!" comment from the asian girl. Well, I had a bad headache and I'm not the confrontational type so I opted for sleeping and turned the light off. Most of the bus was dark by that time.

On the seats accross from ours were to anglophone guys talking very softly ... you know some ordinary conversation and very quiet, no laughs, no nothing. I even found that the monotony of their conversation was sort of sleep inducing. But then, the asian girl starts caughing. At first I thought she was choking but when she kept doing over and over and over again ... I realized that it was a "not so discreet" way to tell the guys that she apparently didn't like the fact that they were talking because SHE wanted to sleep.

Quite rightly, the guys kept on talking ... I mean its not like they were disruptive ... unlike the damned coughts that she kept doing and who kept waking me up. Well, after about half an hour of this stupidity, the guy told the girl that he had the right to talk and so on .. but then she gets into this crazy fit yelling stuff like "have some respect for those around you!" ... suffice to say its the last person I expected to hear that from. The argument escalated but faced with the logic points from the guy she retreated into yelling "shut up!" "just shut up!" quite loud and repeatedly ... sort of the way a 5 year old would respond to something he doesn't want to hear. Talk about respecting people.

I was torn between telling her to "shut up" or offering her an tylenol ... or a seroquel :P . But something told me she was rather oblivious to basic logic and opted to just watch and enjoy the social drama unfolding in front of me.

In the end, the guys kept talking ... the asian girl kept coughing and making annoyed sighs didn't sleep. My headache got worse and I didn't sleep, but in a sort of perverse satisfied way, I got some enjoyment from watching her. I'm not sure wether its the fact that she didn't get any sleep or some strange facination at someone who looked well into her twenties and who, at the same time, diplayed such laughable imaturity.

If I ever see her again on a bus, I'll make sure to sit not too close to her but not too far as I wouldn't want to miss the show. There is something perversly comforting in watching someone so socially handicapped. Not one who is so by force of nature (handicap, illness, etc.) but someone who is healthy and who's ineptitude and mediocrity makes you glad to be who you are. Just as there are most likely people looking down on me, glad not to be as fucked up as I am. We all need someone more mediocre than ourselves ... it gives us something to look down upon and keep us from looking up too much. If we did, we'd probably be too discouraged.


This sux. Me and my tendency to procrastinate ... it seeps even into transportation. Instead of going to my s.o.'s place yesterday night, I figured I could do it today. Its currently 8:15 and we are jammed in traffic. Prutty crappy, especially considering my class is at 9:00. Yep, get late on the first day of class, now thats a way to make a good impression.

The main reason I didn't feel like leaving yesterday was because I was so darn tired. But in the end I'm not so sure that I got more rest. I kept having nightmares of trying to get somewhere and being unable to. I guess that was the expression of my own anxiety towards today. I kept waking up every 15 minutes or so after 2:00 AM. Its always frustrating.

I don't have much to say, I'm writing this more as a way for me to pass time and try not to go insane at how slowly we are going. Thats the kind of stuff that drives me nuts.

I guess I can always take a taxi once I get to the station but I wonder if its going to be of any help as the drivers are ... well ... not that good and when they think you're from out of town the give you one heck of a long ride for no real reason.

Ugh! I feel like crap. I need to do my hair, I want to take a shower ... I want to sleep and hug my s.o. real thight. I don't want to go to class ... I wish I could run away from it all once again. But on the other end, I'm fucking tired of not being able to say that I've finished my masters. All the darn theorical courses are done ... and with good results if I may add. That teacher who dared say I would fail because I was working too much. It was nice to show him wrong. I got the highest average scolarship and I got onto the honour's roll thigny. Though I preferred the first one ... cash tends to be more usefull than being able to see your name on some huge sign at your school. Though it does give me something to add to my resume.


Another 2h or so of work on the memoire. I figure that it could be a reasonable benchmark ... as in if I force myself to do 2h hours each day no matter what but nothing on the weekend ... xcept if I miss a day ... then perhaps it won't seem as bad ... or as though.

I feel positive about it today. I think its mainly related to the weather. The grey sky with no sun ... the coldish wind ... the sound of a crow tearing the ear. Nothing beats that. For some reason, my fondest memories are always tied with this kind of weather ... and the woods. Perhaps because of the feeling of freedom ... the absence of physical discomfort. But there is definately something about foggy mornings with the cold and the crows that makes it utterly perfect for me.

Most people don't like grey skyes and fall weather. If its warm I hate the muggy temperature but as soon as it gets cold ... watch out because I feel energized and happy. If only fall could last forever ... always the fog, the red leaves, the feeling of nature preparing itself got go to sleep ... the silent woods ... moreso than during the summer, a sort of strange reverence. Perhaps it feels so good because the gloom of it all is so often a reflexion of how I feel inside. Not in a bad way ... just an austere and solem calm cold feeling.


I feel a bit better today as I've managed to work a bit on the memoire. I think part of the problem is that I felt stuck ... unable to go from the mathematical model towards the verbal explanation of it. So basically I've done all the variables, all the constants and the three optimality conditions. The verbal part is crappy and will require major work but at least the fundamental thoughts are there. I think perhaps it was a mistake to spend so much time on the model when in my head those conditions were rather clear ... perhaps starting with the statement and then worrying about the algebrical representation will prove to be better.

I will have to re-check this part but I feel rather confident about the theorical part of it now. Though there are still a bunch of things I have to check to make sure I'm not employing the wrong terms ... that I'm not saying that something is strictly concave when I really only want to say that its concave ... and so on. I will also have to check with other theorical models and also check econlit to make sure no one has doubled me accross the curve and published something more recent. I sure hope not.

Now I begin a new tougher part, the finding of actual data, making equations work and so on. I'm not exactly sure how pertinent it is to do so but I also plan to actually resolve the thing algebrically. Basically I want two statements. One that tells me something about the variation of the population accross time in relationship with the variation of hunting accross time and another one which does the same but with basic ressource allocation accross time.


Two weeks since the last posts. I did work a bit on my memoire, but not enough ... not as much as I wanted because every time I do the model a certain way, I find that it doesn't really suit my purpose so I start doing it some other way. Its frustrating.

I'm not sure if the depressive mood I've been feeling is due to work or the memoire. Its hard to tell. I guess its both. For some reason I feel like crap ... and I don't feel as though I'm worth much. Work is definately going downhill. Not because of my work but because the atmosphere is so damned crappy that almost everyone is either gone / sick / on extended leave or on holiday.

For the last month I've basically been doing the work of someone else because they took her out of work because of her pregnancy. Last time that she was pregnant she lost the baby so they thought it best that she remain out of work. Now all that is good and fine but I'm the one who inherited her files. For now its mangeable but it won't in about two weeks. When the house of commons starts working again I simply won't have time to do two people's jobs at the same time. At first she was supposed to be back by the end of this month but it turns out she won't be comming back for another 3 to 6 months (i.e. when her baby will be born). So I'm basically screwed.

My boss should be back in one or two weeks if all goes well. When he does I'm going to have to have a very long discussion with him by stressing that A) I CANNOT do the job of two people and do so at a standard of quality that I deem acceptable and B) the person I am filling in for is a CO-2 and I'm only a CO-1 and on page 84 of our collective agreement, it says that when you do a job that is deemed of higher level than your classification, you should get paid for it accordingly. So either he reclassifies my position and decides which files I follow and which ones I don't or I'll call the union and tell them to come and evaluate my work to see what level its deemed worth.

Its just so pathetic. There are usually two teams PRI and RPI (ya, I know, those accronyms are confusing). RPI (not my team) is supposed to have 7 advisors and one director. Right now, 3 are gone for good, one is on maternity leave, another one (the one I'm replacing) has an unknown status for now and one decided to take a month of "sick leave". So thats 2 left and the boss.

On my team, PRI, we are supposed to be 6 advisors and one director. Two have decided to leave. So thats 4 left plus our boss. If you total things up, thats 6 advisors out of 13 or less than 50% which in turns means that everybody is stuck doing a little bit more than two people's worth of work. Its depressing.

I pray Chretien leaves sooner than expected and that Martin does his ministerial shuffling. If he does, it means that our secretary of state changes and so does the deputy minister. This in turn means that Old McDonald could also be ditched. Now that would be nice to see.

On a more positive note, I've been able to talk with a few more people this week. Following minsters' tours does have that advantage. I call, I get the assitant and they never make me wait. Most of them are very nice though I have not had the chance to talk with them all. It forces me to talk with people instead of retreating into my shell which in turns quickly leads to depressive thoughts ... which become dark and which in turn makes me think of doing something stupid.

And when that happens, I think of my s.o. and my four fuzzbuts waiting for me at home.

But I feel as though my batteries are slowly being drained. Every weekend, the energy goes back up but not enough to last the week. The atmosphere is choking me ... I often feel like puking ... as if that could somehow take the lump I feel and rid me of it.

The dissociative episodes are back more than ever. Mainly at work. I guess its my way to get away from what I can't leave.

I have to go see the doc next week and I'm tempted to tell him how crappy I feel. Its always the same questions : how do you feel? Do you cry alot? Do you have any suicidal ideas? How is your sleep? Are the hallucinations still happening? Are you getting any intolerable side effects? Then he writes me my prescriptions and sends me on my way.

I'm tempted to do what is probably best for me and get a damned sick leave. He's been offering it for a year, always amazed that I haven't missed work. But somehow I feel some sort of insane loyalty towards my boss. I don't want to let him down. I'm like that in work-related situations. I'm loyal to those I feel appreciate my work. I resent all those who have left ... I also resent the way they did it. It was totally unprofessional. Just leaving without telling anyone, without arranging things or making sure people can carry on after they are gone. I don't want to give up like them, I don't want to be pathetic like that.

I guess this is what happens when you grow up in an environment / family that imposes strict guidelines that you are expected to follow. I grew up wanting to make others proud of me ... and here I am doing the same pathetic routine with a screwed up proxy father figure.

I've become so disillusioned about the public service. The petty power strugles, the rumors, the backstabing. I though I would find a nice work environment ... I even stressed that point during the interview. And I feel as though I've been mislead. Though perhaps this is wishful thinking and there isn't such a thing as somewhere where I can do something good, have nice co-workers, clear objectives and some stability. Am I asking for the moon? I want to feel as though my work is achieving something. I want to be usefull to society ... and right now I don't feel that. Right now I feel alone, abandonned and without purpose.

I've been thinking. Maybe I can also add something to my demands. I'll do the damned file while she is gone, but in exchange he give me a "hot" file. Something that moves, something that will get me working late and thinking hard. I think perhaps its because I feel so unchallenged. I want to achieve things ... I need some brain stimulation.

Its funny how good a prophet my s.o. is sometimes. Or rather its that he knows me well. He told me to be careful, that I might get bored after a while. Well, after a little over a year I'm right there. I've reached the point of boredom. How can people carry on doing the same job for 20 years is beyond me.

I think I need friends. Someone I can relate to at work. There used to be a very nice girl but she left to have a baby. The other ones at work ... what little there is left ... are too old. My reality is too different from theirs. They are old enough to be my parents. Its sort of strange for me. I don't think I've felt that in a long time. Maybe I'm not a total hermit after all. I think that I need some sort of outlet during the week so that work won't be my only social "scene" ... so if work is crappy but frienship is not then maybe I won't feel so bad and depressed.

We're almost there. Kirkland. so another 30 minutes or so to go.


Yep, I'm definitely doing this bus thing too much. Not only do the drivers recognize me and I recognize them, I'm starting to recognize the passengers to. There is the old asian techno doctor. He has all sorts of neat electronic gadgets and I know he's a medical doctor from snooping on his phone conversations. The other passenger that I know is for much worse reason. Its mister cheater. He always gets there late and never waits in line. After seeing him do it for three weeks, I understand his strategy. He gets there, walks down the line, then walks up again, spots a group of black people and sneaks in with them. They are definitely not his family because they change every week. At first first it pissed me off, but he's not worth it. He's just pathetic and one day someone will teach him about the basics of social conventions ... the hard way.

Another disappointing weekend. Not by anybody's fault though, just rather the crappy weather. Its muggy, warm, sticky, your hair is hell because of the humidity and the streets stink of this earthworm-like smell. It drains the energy out of me which in turns makes me lazy and not wanting to do anything.

Hmmm ... well I am disappointed by someone actually : me. I didn't work on my memoir like I wanted to. I just slept and slept and anytime I got up we had some movie to go to. Not that they were bad. They were in fact putty good. Its just the time constraint that I don't like. Every day of the week I have to get up at the same time, go to work at the same place, go from work to home, take care of the ratties, run some errands and go to sleep so I can start it all over again the next day. I feel as if I never have a minute when there is not something that I must do. The days do not seem long enough ... and the activities during my day seem so repetitive and boring. I hate this age of speed, this slavery to the clock. We run and run, as if this will change anything. We age at the same rhythm ... and when our time comes, we will die. We spend our lives running for what : so we can start having fun when we retire. Isn't it pathetic? Waste the best part of your life (healthwise that is) so you can take your time when you are old, frail and sick.

Sometimes I understand those people who just let everything go ... leave their jobs ... and free themselves from the constraints of society. Sometimes I wish I could do the same, or rather I wish I had the guts to do the same. As hard as it is so realize, I am free and yet a slave at the same time. I am the master and the slave. What binds me is my own expectations ... my judgement of what my own life should be.

And yet the strange thing is that I don't feel as though I own what I do. I mean ... almost everything that I do feels like its not me. The school, the work. I feel true with my s.o., with my mom and with my ratties ... and perhaps when I am with myself, writing this.

Someone I used to know is not feeling well. I wrote to her but I think she didn't write back because of the past ... because she owes me something. Its difficult. My intentions were not to claim that ... I have lost hope long ago of seeing it again ... and I don't hold a grudge ... its my involuntary contribution and thats it ... a small material thing ... not worth much more. I just wanted to say that I care and that I'm a bit worried. I hope it doesn't end badly. Life has a strange and twisted way of chucking out luck and bad luck and I think she deserves things to go well for a change. Had I lived what she did, I don't think I would have gone this far. She's strong but I hope she manages to be strong enough.

I guess its only fitting ... what best to end a crappy week than a crappy weekend.

To all the women out there struggling to lose weight I have one word for you : SEROQUEL. Its not the goal of this medication to make you lose weight but in my case its been very efficient. I used to be 115 pounds and this weekend I was down to 106. Its slowing down a bit though. For a while it was a pound a week but now its about half a pound. Its so strange for many reasons. I don't exercise more, I eat and work just the same ... so what the hell is happening? I mean if it were something that makes you more awake, something that makes your heart pound faster, I would understand ... but its a knock-out pill. It makes your brain mush and unless you're totally psychotic ... YOU WILL SLEEP. The only logical thing I can see is that by forcing me to sleep more / better, I am more awake during the day and perhaps more active. Perhaps I drink more water ... or it might be the summer ... sweating like a pig does make you shed weight.

I guess in the end I'm lucky because one of the supposed side effect of the medication is actually weight gain. Goes to show how unpredictable those things are.

Bleh! I just remembered I'm almost out of milk ... and I'll be to late, the corner store will be closed. Hull ... or rather Gatineau is too much of a sleepy town to have many 24h stores. I guess I will have enough for a coffee tomorrow, but its going to be putty close, especially since I have to be in the office around 7:30 because I was stupid enough to leave my registration forms at my office and the course starts at 8:30 or so. Hopefully the jolt will be drinkable. And considering how much they are charging for this class, it better be.

We went for sushi on Saturday and I felt like a total antisocial weirdo. I didn't know most of the people there. Many looked at me, and you could see it in their eyes that they were just about to introduce themselves and I just looked to the side, pretended to be busy and walked away. Not that I really wanted to know them ... I guess out of pure laziness. I'm sure a conversation would have been interesting but it always makes me feel inept. I try to question them, to make them talk but, I don't know, I guess its obvious they are uninterested. I'm only good with very talkative people ... you know those that can go on and on and I can just sit there and listen ... ask a few questions and thats it. I'm good with interlocutors who don't expect anything from me.

I also felt bad physically on Saturday. The muggy weather, my hair all messed up, clothes sticking to my skin and having made the mistake of eating popcorn. Almost ate the whole damned bag. I'm putty sure I got 50 days worth of sodium from that. When I eat fatty food I tend to feel sick afterwards. The taste sticks into my mouth, on my hands, my stomach ... and all I want to do is go home, brush my teeth and take a shower. So lets say I was definitely not in a very social mood. Twas good when I ate it but man do I always regret it. Why can't they serve HEALTHY food at those place? Heck, UNSALTERED UNGREASSY popcorn would be a good start. Nope. Its either popcorn, chocolate or candies. And scientists wonder why the developed world is getting sick, diabetic and fat? Bleh!

The government imposes very high taxes on things that are "bad" for you like smokes and booze. This is done based on a simple logic: by choosing to consume those goods, chances are you will end up costing more to the society, either by say, increased health care costs or higher risks or accidents with alcohol. Thus, those taxes partially make up for the free riding that you are doing on other individuals who make healthier life choices.

They also tax certain foods but allot less. Things that are already prepared like cereal or muffins ... but essential basic foods (milk, unprepared meat, veggies, fruits, etc.) are not. Well, I think it could be profitable to rethink the taxation scheme of food. If people decide to wreck their health with chips and chocolate bars, shouldn't they assume a bit more of the health bill burden like people who drink or smoke?

By raising the prices of "bad" food, society as a whole could also benefit from an added externality. Its rather well known that there is a correlation between low income and high consumption of "bad" foods. Why? Because they are cheap. 1L of bottled water is about the same price as 2L of store brand cola. A bunch of grapes is much more expensive than a chocolate bar or a bag of chips. Perhaps added taxes would discourage people away from those types foods. Large food conglomerates are offloading part of their responsibility by way of our ill-conceived taxation system.

Some might say that in doing so (taxes on unhealthy foods), this would equal raising the burden on low income families as they would have trouble making ends meet in terms of food. Well to this I will respond the age old oh so powerful argument : BULLSHIT! Its just that buying these things is faster, easier but it is not that much cheaper when you compare nutrients and energy content. People just don't bother getting say fish or lentils for protein source ... but its, in my opinion, a very big mistake. Its healthy and its not filled with icky chemical stuff and nasty additive made from strange insect parts and such. If only food companies were forced to divulge ALL the ingredients they add to food and do so in understandable terms, I think many people would think twice about buying certain things.

I also believe that this tax should be pre-added (i.e. already on the shelf price)... like it is on wine and booze so that the consumer can see the inflated price right away. Perhaps knowing this some food companies might think twice about putting disgustingly unhealthy foods on the market ... or at least explore ways to make their products healthier.

This tax money could then be used in various ways. Part of it to add to the healthcare system and also part of it to fund organisms who provide food to those who can't afford it or help people start up food coops where people pool together to buy in bigger quantities and avoid the high mark-up prices of large store chains.

And finally, just like drinking and smoking, part of the tax revenue should be spent in mass-media information. People often don't know what they are eating, what it can do to them and such. I was lucky enough to be brought up by a mom who had a strong "granola" penchant and a dad who hated anything pre-made. Not everyone was that lucky. Perhaps this way we won't have to witness sad stuff like a person suing a fast food chain for "making him fat". Inform people and then let them make the choice.

I believe in free will ... but I also believe in accurate information. It might seem a contradiction that I support taxation as one might say that its "forcing" people into certain patterns of consumption ... thwarting their free will. But I beg to differ. Prices are just a reflexion of the "true" value of a good (be it positive or negative). It makes up for part of the imperfect information which is always part of our market-based society.

Ok, I'm done. The "I resent having eaten popcorn" rant is over.

Well, not totally. Some might say HA! but would you be ready to pay more for your jolt you caffeine junkie ... hun?

Yes I would.

So there.

I'm not saying I'm perfect or that my life choices are. I know they are not and I'm ready to pay the price for them.

As one might have guessed, this will also be a very long post as I am yet on the bus.

All through last week I've wanted to write things but didn't find the time to do it or when I opened the text editor, nothing came.

It also helps to make time pass. I could sleep but it would only be half sleep, interrupted by sore neck and head. I should have left earlier today but I didn't. I'm not sure why but the cuddles and snuggles with my s.o. were worth being a zombie tomorrow. I'll be lucky if I catch 5h of sleep.

Of course I could forgo taking care of the ratsies, it would save me about 1h. But I never do and never will. If I don't do it at night, I do it in the morning before I leave for work. Why? Because I know myself. At heart I'm a lazy bum. I've started so many things that I've never finished. If I let myself slip, the procrastination will start and I will become even lazier.

My rats are alive. They are totally dependent on me and thus neglecting them would be sinking pretty low. I know some people might not understand because they are "just animals". But its more than that. Its symbolic. They represent my hold onto life. They are the symbolic kick in the butt that I need daily to get up and go on. And I'm not even totally making this up. Its no surprise that people with pets, especially in old age, tend to live longer, have more stable lives, etc. By taking responsibility for another living being, you voluntarily chop away a bit of your freedom ... and the sad puppy eyes are always there to remind you of your commitment.

And whenever you can't find it in you to love yourself, they will. No matter how much you screw up, no matter how much you ignore them, they will forgive you and love you just the same. Even if its a very primitive food-based affection, sometimes you just need that unconditional non-judgmental affection.

You give them the time / money / love that you can spare and in return they give you ALL their love and as much attention that you are ready to take. Has there ever been a better deal?

The only good side that I can see to this weather is that it will be good for mushroom growth. Last season was totally dry, nothing grew. Hopefully this year I can find a few interesting specimens. I still haven't finished the list of the ones that I want to taste. The last one left is Amanita Cesarea ... not sure of the spelling though. I'm not sure why. Its apparently a very good comestible ... but also perhaps so I can boast having eaten something from the Amanita family and not gotten sick / high or dead. That species also grows in Italy, hence the name ... if it was good enough for emperors ... its probably worth the try.

It also sounds more dangerous than it really is though. The deadly ones are super easy to identify and Cesarea is very colourfull as the former are either white or white with an olive hat. At worse ... it might, to a certain degree look like a Muscarina but thats basically magic mushrooms so at worse you get high and risks spending the next day running to the bathroom.

Its funny how people are generally way too afraid of wild mushrooms. So few of them are dangerous and only 2 are potentially deadly ... well, if you stretch it, maybe 3 : Amanita Virosa, Amanita Panthera and if you happen to stumble on weird morrel and you forget that you're supposed to soak them in salted water overnight. Aside from that, at least in Quebec, you can eat absolutely everything you stumble upon and at worse you'll puke and get a nasty case of the runs but thats it.

Funny how by becoming civilized we forget nature and our ignorance makes us afraid of it ... even though its what made us what we are today.

Yep, if I can summon the will to work on my memoir, I definitely have to go hunting this week.


Well, this has been one heck of a crappy week.

For some reason, everything seemed to fall apart. First there are all the people on sick leave or otherwise absent ... which means yours truly gets to do all their job. There is something so frustrating in being stuck to do the work of someone who makes twice as much as you.

On the good side my boss told me, or more like ordered me to apply for an intermediate advisor position (one level above me and about 10k more per year ... with a maximum close to 80k). He actually admitted in front of me and the senior advisor that what I'm doing right now IS intermediate advisor level work. Hopefully I manage to get it. Otherwise, I don't know. The whole process should be sometime this fall as it won't start until my boss gets back and he's gone for 3 more weeks. I'll get working on my resume.

I've thought about my professional life and all and I've decided to do one thing : finish my masters. I don't care how much work it takes, I will finish this damned thing. I think after that I will feel more confident in my ability to find a job ... and perhaps take the risk of going back to Montreal even if I don't have a secured position. It will depend on many factors like my s.o. and my financial situation though by then I should have been able to amass enough cash to live, abeit poorly, for a year ... so with ie, that would give me 1.5 year to find something interesting.

I did the first step this week. It was more a psychological one ... to look at my models, to try and remember what the heck they wore and which version is what. I do get a sense of what they mean and where I stand in the process. Its amazing how much you forget in such a little amount of time.

One thing that I find interesting, is that I don't feel so panicky like I did before. Somehow the whole thing seems more manageable than before I broke down and left for Ottawa. Maybe its the medication. Or maybe I forgot something and the awful reality of the impossibly difficult task I have set myself to will hit me smack in the face :P

Getting back to work ... yesterday I was afraid that I might lose my boss or something because we got told that some big news was going to be announced then. It turns out that they are giving us another Managing Director. A few years ago, an incompetent got into that position and to get rid of him, they just abolished the position ... ya ... real smart move boys. Put a division with two directors ... both the same level and thus no one has the authority to make final decision and you wonder why there was no teamwork. Well duh!

And to think, Old McDonald (my big boss, who's a gentleman-farmer ... but really more a farmer than anything) ... he only took 1 YEAR!!!! to make that decision. Geez ... sometimes I'm afraid that there is a seriously strong reverse correlation between your wage and your common sense. Either that or he spends too much time with his farm animals and forgot how to deal with humans.

Apparently the new MD is not so good ... but hopefully she will be enough of a puppet that she can be stirred in the right direction. In the end though I believe that if she's reasonably intelligent it will be a positive step. We will finally have a big boss who's there 5 days a week and won't have to run after Old McDonald who visits perhaps 4 times a month. If she's a total pain though I'll always have the advantage of having my boss (a truly cool guy) between me an her ... and also perhaps she will be less sexist ... a putty obvious trait of Old McDonald. Just because most of my co-workers are old enough to be my parents doesn't mean anything other than that the public sector is filled with decaying antiquities. So there.

Yours truly is becoming a total renovation store junkie. My latest toy err... tool is a staple gun of doom. The thing can hurl a nail or staple more than a meter away. Now THATS a stapler. Upholstering my chairs was a total piece of cake. I have a feeling I could easily become an obsessive stapler. And as an added bonus, in addition to being a cool potential torture tool its heavy enough to knock someone out. I'm starting to feel that perhaps the key to world domination is not duck tape and a hammer but rather duck tape and an industrial staple gun.

This is going to be a really long log. I'm on the but and there isn't enough light to read my memoir stuff. I'll probably run out of things to say before I run out of time.

I've been re-reading the buddhist book that my s.o. bought me last year. Somehow when I read part of it last year, I was a bit put off by the meditation things in it. But as I look at it now, I find it more appealing. Perhaps because I now have only two decent TV channels plus two others where you can barely see the image and so since I can't escape into something that is mentally "easy" and passive like TV, my brain is forced to wake up and things become more interesting.

I guess the thing that appeals to me the most about it is the whole "stop resisting" approach. Its not being passive and not doing anything, but rather accepting that they happen and that perhaps you will feel bad, perhaps you will react in a good or bad way and its ok. Its about letting go and quit judging yourself. Its ok to feel angry, its ok to feel like crap and be in a bad mood. Its accepting yourself with both your qualities and flaws. When you are able to stop judging its easier to find a way to accept everyone and everything around you. Not agree with them, not letting people take advantage of you but rather accepting that they exist and that resisting is counter-productive.

The way I picture it, its like a river filled with rapids and you are trying to go upstream on it. If you just stand there, waist deep in the water, feet on the ground, heels dug in the sand,its going to be very hard to get anywhere. The water pushes on every inch of your body and there is a putty big chance that if you lose your footing you'll fall and get carried away by the current. The way I see letting go is to go from standing to swimming with the current. Maybe it will push you downstream but maybe you'll find a rock to protect you for the current and it will perhaps be easier to find the path to where you want to go.

Another example is little kids when they don't want to go to bed. You try to pick them up and they are like jello ... not resisting ... not being rigid. Well for anyone who's ever tried to pick someone up, you know that picking something thats totally rigid is way easier than to pick someone who's all soft and relaxed. Even though being like that, relaxed, you are stronger than the person who's trying to resist with all her might.

But as good as this sounds, its not easy to put into practice. I had the proof just yesterday when I learned about the meeting. All of a sudden, I was imagining the worst scenarios : what if this, what if that and all the while feeling very bad. I had plans for last night, but this freaking uncertainty was enough to totally de motivate me. I think I didn't go so low as normally would have, but I did feel bad. And when I feel like that, I just can't seem to do anything productive.

Its been more than three weeks since the ct scan and the doctor has not called back which means : yay! no brain tumor in Kookie's head. :)

But it also means that the hallucinations a psychological and not physiological. Somewhat worrisome but I'd rather see purple dragons all my life than let some doctor play with the inside of my head. I don't have a great body, I'm not strong, all I have is my intellect. Abeit a bit strange but its the most potable part of me.

In the end its not that bad. I've lived with them for a couple of years and it doesn't look like they will go away and I don't think its worth playing the find-the-right-pill game just for that. I've experienced enough funky side effects thank you very much. I hoped the head shrinker would have the magical cocktail but she didn't. Oh well

I guess part of the worry I had / still have is a fear of looking like a freak. Of other seeing me as "crazy" for looking at things that aren't there. But the head shrinker (I really have to find a better nickname for her) made me realize that people probably won't notice. If I just turn my head and look ... I can always pretend I was looking at something else. I'm glad there is no sound component to it.

Living near a couple of bars has its advantage. I don't frequent them and I don't drink but they do provide me with nice entertainment. When people are drunk they can start to recite pretty hilarious stuff. This week I was on the loo, reading a book when all of a sudden I start hearing this strange poem about chivalry and cars and what not. I didn't understand all of it but it was quite entertaining nonetheless.

I think I've made progress with my dad. I've putty much decided ... well ok, Fantasia helped, not to be available to see him for the past four weeks or so. I've had a few calls but I have the impression that the tone is changing. Its less intrusive ... less oppressive. In the end we both win. I don't get the nasty guilt trips as much and in return I don't feel compelled not to answer the phone. They (he and his gf) seem less judgmental when they call and they don't insist when I evade the questions about all those little things they feel the need to comment upon.

Maybe me finally not allowing my over protective dad to help move and such and making him understand that NO I don't want someone to come over and "help" me unpack my bags sort of showed him that yes, I can actually survive without him. Its about time damnit! I'm a quarter of a century old!

They kept nagging me about my bday gift though. How pathetic is that. I feel annoyed because the KEEP on asking me what I want for my birthday ... and I can never think of anything. Everything I would want is either too expensive or from a store on the web so it would be more practical for me to get it myself. And besides, it makes me feel so fake when I oblige and do suggest something. I don't feel they owe me a gift. I will like them all the same if they don't give me one. I've probably said this a thousand times but there are still people who don't get this very simple fact of life : LOVE IS NOT SPELLED WITH A DOLLAR SIGN!!!

Sometimes I feel that my parents get so trapped in the whole "giving" gifts to everyone and making sure everyone is equal and that no one is forgotten that they forget the meaning. Or perhaps its something that they use a substitute for feelings because they don't know how to express their emotions otherwise.

I have to refrain myself from doing all the projects I want to do. Until the memoir is done. I want to build a super big rat cage. I want to buy mannequin parts, dismember them and make some very cool furniture / wall decorations with them. I want to paint abstract stuff. I want to write things. I want to take a university course in something totally selfish and fun like criminology or biology. I want to explore the abandoned buildings around my neighborhood. I want to do some volunteer work. I want to go mushroom hunting and grow plants. I want to learn japanese. So many things ... but I'll try and be strong and force myself to work on the memoir.

Its not that its uninteresting ... its rather the fear of failure. I have to "find the flow". When I'm in it, I can work and work and work and it doesn't matter if I don't eat or sleep and I don't care how long it takes, I just do it and it feels great. I've felt like that when I did some of my projects for school and all of those turned out great ... because once I had a few "flow" sessions, I would actually seek to work more on it, not having to force myself. Positive reinforcement is a powerful thing.


I'm annoyed this morning. I can't stop thinking about my memoir and it bugs me because again today I will not have time to work on it. Its the cause of much frustration because I keep procrastinating like to many other things I don't feel like doing. I hope that somehow I will find the time and will to finish this once and for all ... to get it behind me and be able to stop thinking about it.

No sign of the strange of the illusive mouse as of yet ... so maybe she was just a figment of my imagination.

I hate that I have a good sense of smell ... sometimes I see similarities in smells that I end up finding it disgusting. Its like this morning. I don't know, I guess my mug wasn't thoroughly clean or something but on the side of the rim, I perceived a strange and very faint smell ... and thinking about it I realized that it was similar to the smell of the soil in the pots that I have in my attic. Not to say that there is soil in my mug but I guess some of the volatile components of both things stem from the same molecules. When smells are pleasant its fine but when they are not, I hate being able to "decompose" them as I then recognize them afterwards and they end up upsetting me. The only good news is that it goes to show that my sense of smell wasn't too damaged by my lil cleaning accident.

It so happens that when I took possession of the apartment, there were a few cleaning products left ... I picked up a bottle of what looked like a cleaning liquid ... and wanting to know what it was I decided to smell it. I know, I know, I remember chemistry when they tell you NOT to smell your concoctions. Well anyhow, it turns out the damned bottle was pure ammonia ACK! It felt like breathing in fire that scorched my nasal passages and throat. Its not as bad as when I smelled sulphate which made me dizzy and nauseous but it was more painful and sort of killed my sense of smell ... and thus taste for quite a while.

Moral of the story : white cleaning bottles are like white mushrooms ... they might just be an amanita virosa ... attractive but deadly.

I feel so tired. Sunday I went to bed too late and I did the same yesterday. My eyelids are closing and I'm constantly fighting them. Ugh! I want to sleep!!! For the second time, I had the same visual effect with people and huge necklaces ... yet again it seemed like a giant scarab latched onto the neck of its wearer ... tearing at it. It was sort of icky.


Well, you can unquote me on those lasts statements. I feel like crap. My whole day has been crap. First some fucked up stuff with my order from the Brick. I made a second attempt and hopefully it will work this time. And I dunno, I keep surfing the web ... without the deadlines and the pressure is SOOOO much more boring and unmotivating. I'm also stressed about school ... so much so that I spent tonight having damned cramps.

The work is mildly stressful as I ended up having to resolve a sort of tricky political question. Those freaky requests you never expect. I guess its in those times that you realise the true weight of the job. You get an unclear letter telling you : we want to meet the secretary of state. You get a second letter from the secretary's cabinet asking : is this meeting pertinent? Go ahead, make a recommendation. I felt shifty yesterday because my boss didn't have the same opinion as me as to what to do. Tomorrow will be decisive. In the end I think a political meeting is not pertinent … but one with a general director would be. Hopefully the concerned director will be willing to do it. If he is, then I can write my recommendation note and put this damned thing behind me.

My predictions were right : the Church of torment is for sale. HA! take that miss Cleo!

I went to swim yesterday. The water temp was nice ... a little bit over 80 so its quite decent. The service is great. I guess its an advantage of going to a hotel fitness club. I also found out that there is a huge giant tub but the water was way too hot. The only thing that I don't like, it people changing in the lockers. Ok, call me a prude, call me silly but I really feel uncomfortable walking around other women casually undressing right in front of me. I with they would use the damned changing room.

I wanted to go to sleep early tonight. As usual, its not going to happen. The monkeys gave me the poor-mistreated-rattie faces so I caved in, pulled out the labyrinth and played with them for an hour or so. I still have to finish ratproffing the room ... it would make it more fun for me as I wouldn't have to monitor them so closely all the time. Poor lil babies. They must find the bathroom so small and boring as opposed to having all my room as before.

13/07/03 (part II)

Me again. It turns out my desk top did fit in the staircase. It was hell to get it there but its done. Only one piece of the desk left to get up there but being as it is smaller than the top I'm not too worried.

Went to my old place to pick up my freezer food. I didn't realise that I had that many. It was sort of strange. Twiggy was out so I somehow felt like I was sneaking into someone else's apartment. The door to her room was open and a bunch of her stuff was on the table. Apparently she's not neater than when I was there. She seems to have this habit of leaving tidbits of food in the sink after she does the dishes. I guess its too much of an effort to remove them. If only she knew all the living bugs that breed in there.

Thursday night, I had the revenge I sought. I read this nifty article and I told Twiggy all about it. Its about how bugs, human body parts, various animal glandular extracts and lots more nasty stuff are used in the food industry. From the colour red to raspberry flavour, coffee beans, any bread you buy pre made. According to that article, even canned tomatoes have bug parts. Fly eggs if I remember well. It doesn't bother me that much. I got over the fact that I eat bugs and bacteria when I learned two interesting facts.

Fact 1 : During your lifetime, through normal eating habits its inevitable that you will swallow insects or part of them. If you were to add it all up, it would be enough to fill a large blender. Bon appetit mes amis!!!

Fact 2 : You need bacteria to live. If you were to remove them all from your system, you would not only be condemned to certain death but you would also be one or two kilograms lighter.

It doesn't stir me but it was a true delight to watch the horror on her face ... the shocked look of disbelief. Payback is good, but true mean revenge is much sweeter. And the beauty of it all, its that I only told her the truth.


My last post was interrupted by the effects of my crazy pill. I mean, when you think of it, it seems more like a very strong sleeping pill than anything. After 30 minutes or so, it feels like being hit across the head with a baseball bat. You CANNOT stay awake. I cannot fathom people taking this thing during the day. I dunno, maybe if I were really psychotic, it would not be strong enough to put me to sleep but it would definitely calm someone down.

So, as I was saying, I explored a bit around town. Found the places to do my laundry. Its fairly close. I also explored the many corner stores around here. Incidentally, I guess I met the local crazy guy. His name is Simon. I know that because I was about to pay when he suddenly went up to the counter, pick up the phone and started talking as if there was really someone on the line. He then turned to look at me, got a spooked look, dropped the phone and scurried away. As I left the store, I noticed him following me so I went into another store. I guess the whole situation was made creepier by the fact that I wasn't wearing my contacts on account of my eyes being store from all the dust the moving had lifted.

I bathed the ratties yesterday. So for one night I couldn't help myself but to grab them and smell the sweet scent of my honey-almonds soap on their fur. They didn't really appreciate but they had been doing a bit too much "marinating" in the litter box lately. It always amazes me how wet rattie girls smell like industrial grape flavour. Sort of the same characteristic smell of a wet dog … only this actually smells nice. I'm going to try to bathe them once every week … and maybe they will start to tolerate it more. They don't bite but they do squeak and squirm as though I'm trying to kill them.

My whole body it still sore from hauling stuff ... my hands are raw in many places from bleach and all the cleaning liquid and my nails almost non-existent. I'm afraid I might not be able to haul the top of my desk upstairs ... it seems a bit big for the steep and narrow stairs.

Its nice to be back with the rats again. They seem to enjoy their elevated cage; perhaps because they feel safer that way. I also feel safer for now they are away from people who don't like them. Call me paranoid but after seeing Twiggy running after a fly with a can of raid, spraying madly, I thought that perhaps she would not be above doing my monkeys some harm. In a way I guess it’s a good thing I don't want kids because I'm already overprotective of pets, so I'd probably make a crazy overprotective overbearing mother.

I might drop by my old place tonight, to do a final cleaning and maybe a few calls. This place doesn't have washing facilities, but there is a laundromat close and in the end its better because you can do as many loads as you want at the same time. What could have taken me four hours at my other place, only took one, and it’s the same price ... more for washing but less for drying.

Perhaps it’s the bliss from finally having a place to call a real home but I feel quite good. I sleep ok ... except for the fact that I seem to automatically wake up around 5 or 6 AM. Maybe it’s a habit from work or maybe it’s the crazy pill losing its effect. I'm able to face the pas as it is. I think I've forgiven myself or at least partially. Even though I was "sick", even though I might have been "manipulated", it was me who went with it, it was me who sought the self destruction and it was me who got myself in that pathetic sorry situation. It was my fault and I've decided to own that ... to make it a part of my past ... nothing less, nothing more. The others might see me as a user, a manipulator, a slut, an idiot or what not but in the end, does it really matter? Can I let the others determine who I am? If I do so, then what am I? Why choose to live? Wouldn't death be easier? At least it doesn't have many expectations and doesn't tend to be capricious.

There is a small church around here, called the "Eglise du Calvaire". I'm not sure how to translate it properly. Perhaps "The Church of Suffering" or "The Church of Torment". Now I don't know about you but I definitely think theses guys should take a Marketing 101 class. Unless you’re a total masochist, why on earth would you want to go there? At least Ottawa has this : crazy preachers. All you have to do is go to the Rideau shopping centre. Last time I went, it was some type of Mexican preacher with his acolytes, holding signs that said "Jesus is coming back, get ready". I don't understand religious people. Sort of the same incredulity you might get is someone came up to you telling you he's purple, his father is an elephant and his mother the queen of England. I just don't get it … the need for it, the universality of it (of needing a religion that is), its power over people, the way it can drive them to hate and kill, to distort their perception of the world around them and to get them to do things that they would otherwise not.

I'm struggling to live with an overprotective father, perhaps this is why it seems so insane to me, that need for a higher Being "watching over you" as a form of reassurance. It seems to me the price is too high. Is it really possible to be watched over without being judged? Just as with my father, I do not want to have to live up to someone else's ideals ... to mark my life according to a scoring scheme other than my own.

I want my success to be mine and mine alone, even if it means that my failures will be too. Perhaps if someday I'm in big trouble, I will have a different opinion ... but again, changing today because of a very uncertain future, seems futile.

I definitely need to exercise more. Just the swimming on Thursday was enough to give me sore elbows. Its perhaps the first time I notice the effects of my physical condition's decline. My legs are alright as I'm always waking a lot, but the upper body is losing it big time so I will try to go swim tomorrow after work and shopping for groceries.

On a side note, Thursday reminded me why I don't really like to swim in lakes. Its when weeds wrap around your ankles. Ugh! I don't really know why but it makes me shudder. It feels like some tentacular thing grabbing you with its slimy arms.


Well, its done, I've moved to my new apartment. In the end, taking professional movers turned out to be a great idea. I'll never move by myself ever again; its not worth the pain in the ass. Sure its expensive, but how easy it is. They showed up in Laval around 8:30, left an hour later with my stuff, got to my place in Hull and loaded my stuff in less than half an hour. We got to the apartment, another 45 minutes or so and everything was in my new room. The guys were extremely nice and polite and the one mover even found my ratties cute ... baby talking to them while the other was writing the contract. Hell, the amount even ended up a few dollars less than the estimate. I guess I was right in thinking that using a company with many outlets sort of helps support the idea that they are not crooks, seeing as they have survived this long. Anyhow, to anybody moving, short or long distance, I recommend Internic moving … they will even accommodate various modes of payment to suit your needs.

Its nice to be in my own place ... to be able to walk around in underwear (yeah, what can I say, I have no class), to place things the way I want, to clean stuff and find it cleaned when I come back. I'm still floating on the bliss. The only bad part of this place seems to be the TV, reception is crummy and there is no hacked cable like at my other places. But aside from that, its great. The neighbour downstairs is a bit odd, he goes through these phases, maybe 20 minutes at a time, playing music super loud. I dunno, maybe he's doing some renovations and wants the music to go over the noise of his tools. The good news is that unlike my former neighbours, he seems to have similar music tastes as me ... so its usually classical music. Quite tolerable.

Yet another question nags me. On TV, when they say : this movie contains violence, bla bla bla, viewer discretion is advised. What the heck does this mean? Don't tell anyone we play this on our channel? Don't tell anybody you watched it? Don't scream too loud? It just seems strange.

I hope my furniture gets here soon. Right now all I have is my old mattress in the living room which serves me as a couch and bed. The bedroom is very small, so I'll definitely end up getting a single bed ... and should my S.O. come to visit, the couch will provide us with a decent double bed.

I'm not sure why, but the attic creeps me up sometimes. I haven't seen the illusive mouse again so its quite possible she was a product of my imagination.


Welcome to the home improvement channel ... or perhaps I should say the "making your apartment potable" channel. I've never done renovations beyond re-hooking a phone line so I'm pretty much guessing what I should be doing. As a general thing though, I do find it fun.

I skipped work yesterday and I went to buy a sofa! Didn't feel well and well ... I needed the furniture anyway. I also ordered a table and some chairs from Ikea. Though the guy has not called to check the order ... oh well.

I guess its going to be somewhat hard and annoying for the first week or so as I don't have a table or a sofa or chairs or a bed ... but I'll have my futon so I'll prolly just do everything on it. Its better than my room anyway. This whole decoration / furniture thing is going to cost me way more than I expected. As of now I'm over a 1,000$ and all I have to show for it is a sofa, an ottoman, a table and two chairs. But on the other hand, I purposely avoided cheap stuff. I've had cheap stuff all my student life. I figure I might as well get things I actually like and keep them for a long time rather than go through tons of cheapo stuff that breaks super quickly.

The hallucinations are causing me a problem ... or rather it was yesterday. I was all sweaty, lacking air because of the dust mask and trying to vacuum the attic. In a dark corner, I was crouched reaching as far as possible and out of a hole, I see something peeking out and then dart back inside. It looked like a mouse, but how am I to know if this is not another wacko visual effect. I'm considering leaving food out near it to see if it gets eaten ... but I'm afraid this co lead to very real ants invading my place. For now I guess I'll just assume its real and let it live ... I mean I have rats ... its not as if a mouse is going to scare me. More than anything, I was afraid of it getting sucked into the vaccum ... ugh! That would have been prutty disgusting to clean.

07/07/03 (part II)

13 minutes and I will be free, 13 minutes and I will be 13 minutes closer to bed. My productivity at work has gone way down. In a way I guess its from the lack of time pressure and deadlines. When I have them, its easy to just rush into work, head down and go ahead ... but now days are SLOWLY inching by ... doing not so pressing work.

10 minutes ... I can't believe I took 3 minutes to write that wimpy paragraph. It goes to show how slow my mind is right now.

I can't stop my mind from being troubled by I silly question that no one seems to be able to answer. So here it goes ... in the hopes of some nice knowledgeable person happens to read this.

Fact : rats have no sweat glands ... to evacuate heat (i.e. cool down), they increase the blood flow in their tails which, because it is naked, loses heat faster ... thus cooling the blood (sort of like those desert hares with huge ears).

Fact : during the summer, when its humid, the temperature "feels" like it is higher because high levels of humidity mean that its harder for the sweat that we produce to evaporate and thus cool us down.

Question : since rats don't sweat ... then do they "feel" the humidex or do they feel the "real" temperature sort of like a thermometer which is not affected by humidity? In other words, should I be jealous of my rats' heat-evacuation capabilities?

If someone knows the answer PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me ... otherwise I could be stuck with it forever ... and yes I tried to "google" it ... and the god of search engine let me down. Am I the only one on this planet to have wondered that? I feel intellectually alone.

Ok, nuf crazy question stuff ... I'm off for some money-wasting-mind-numbing-stuff. Yes, you've guessed it ... its bathroom shopping time! I remember what a friend said ... when you start being interested in interior decoration and renovations, its time to buy life insurance because its a sure sign you're getting old :P


Great! That's just freaking great! As if taking anti-psychotic wasn't worrisome enough ... now it seems that I can't fall asleep without them. Yesterday I took the 11 o'clock bus but it was very slow so I got to my old apartment really late ... something around 2 AM. I didn't want to take my med because I know it knocks me out at least for 8h and I didn't have that much time to sleep. Well lo and behold, it was only around 5 AM that I managed to fall asleep.

That doctor is turning me into a drug addict...

If I don't take the Effexor in the morning, I can't seem to stay awake ... an now, without the crazy pill, I can't sleep. Right now I'm very tempted to ditch them both. I try to take care of my health and yet I feel that in the long run, taking this stuff is not going to be good.

I feel like a slave to my bottle of pills ... and the worse thing is that the head shrinker mentioned that it might be a lifetime thing ... I might not be able to get off them without becoming depressed and possibly slightly psychotic. From what she said, it would not be psycho as in raving mad or running naked in the streets ... more like losing touch with the sense of self-preservation, danger, good and bad. All the right ingredients to end up doing something stupid.

As a general thing, I feel better. I feel more in control, I don't get thoughts about death like I used to and I don't get the urge to cry for no reason all the time. In a way I hope this is all placebo effect ... I hope the antidepressant is not working and its ME as in Kookie's unmedicated brain doing the work. But I don't know ... the effects I felt when I forgot to take them were pretty real ... even though I was sure I had taken them.

I want it to be me because I feel weak for requiring damned pills to get by ... and also because it makes me feel like I'm voluntarily putting blindfolds ... chemical blinds because I'm too wimpy to see all the nasty stuff that makes up life. I don’t want to be "mentally ill" ... I'm always afraid someone at work will find out ... hell ... the pharmacist already recognises me and knows my name.

Ugh! Only 120 minutes and I can run away to buy bathroom stuff. This moving thing is becoming quite draining. I can’t wait for all my stuff to be in one place … not to have to walk back and forth every day.

03/07/03 (part II)

I wonder if there is such a thing as a typographic orgasm. I just finished signing the Megaphone's goodbye card. Sometimes it scares me how the right things happen at the right momment. My misery was answered and they decided to abolish her position. At first it was only next year but she had been to an interview and thus decided to accept the position. She is leaving this Friday.

But now that I think of it, its sort of scary ... I mean, who am I going to hate?


Yippee ... another fire alarm ... 11, 10 and 9 are evacuating ... guess we're not important enough ... lol ... Its sort of surprising the amount of fire alarms we are getting. We got another one last month. Though it did give us an hour break or so.

The noise of the alarm is quite irritating though, especially since I have a damned speaker in my office.

I finally got my keys yesterday and I was able to install the AC. Its noisy as hell and will prolly render me deaf in no time. Though with only the fan its quite tolerable. Hopefully I should be moving the monkeys tonight.

The place will need ALOT of work to be comfortable, but at least its mine and I won't have to tolerate anybody else's mess.


Life is like pear sherbert. Soft, sweet yet subtle and fruity. Something you could have any time of the day ... pure gastronomical joy. And yet, after a few spoonfulls, your happyness can't help but be disturbed by doubt.

Is it the real thing, or is it made with canned pears? It is so unique that you have nothing to compare it to. Is life the real thing or just an illusion we make up because we have never experienced the "real thing". Think about it ...

Can you spell "K00kie is WAY too tired"?

Ya, 4 hours of sleep last night. The phone woke me up at 5 this morning. Blasted thing. I don't remember my dreams though, except that I had one hell of de depersonalization episode. I was lying in bed and I could feel the comforter pressing on my body but I couldn't move ... I felt slightly "behind" myself and unable to get back in. The alarm clock went off, with the strange sensation that everything was going too fast, the beat of the music seemed to quick, even though I know that song very well. But in the end I snapped out of it and was able to get up. In a way I would rather have this happen at home instead of at work.

Its 16:15 and my brain is already dead. And yet I still have to go and I have to wait till 17:00 to go grab my AC and install it. Should also get my keys and move the monkeys tonigh :)


Welcome to the twighlight zone ... or at least its the way it feels. Yesterday was nice. I was able to go shopping with my mom in Montreal's chinatown. I tried watermelon juice for the first time, twas very good ... moreso than I expected. I also got my b-day present in advance. At first I wanted a rice cooker but I dunno ... they seemed to expensive ... some of them way over 100$ ... so I settled for that D&D book who's purchase I had chosen to delay until I'm done with more important purchases.

What turned out to be strange was the conversation I had with my mom.

First off, I consider myself a skeptical and I think I've come to terms with the fact that my life means nothing more than the pursuit of happyness which lies, in my opinion, in the maximisation of pleasure in all its form (taking into account its implict cost or course ... I am an economist after all). Thats it. I don't believe in god, a greater being or a life after death. When my death comes, I will lose consciousness, the electrical activity of my brain will show me funky colors and images and suppress the pain as the blood flow gets slower and eventually stops ... and I will never wake up and thats it. I don't think I have a "soul" that will survive or that I will come back.

I feel prutty comfortable with the possiblity that in all likelyhood I am just a primate who happens to be more intelligent ... not some special being, not some extrordinary creature or whatever ... I'm just a product of evolution ... my body comes from the particles of the universe ... I used to be dust, maybe from a dead star or an asteroid ... and given millions of years of evolution and changes, I came to be. Afterwards I'll turn back into dust and who knows ... I might end up as part of a plant ... and then maybe an animal. I'm just an infinitesimal part of a mass of matter that is our universe.

I came to realize that beliefs regarding what comes after death are absolutely useless because its unavoidable. If there is nothing, I obviously won't give a damn because I'll be gone. If there is something, then I guess I'll be stuck with it anyway. I think stressing over what you can't change or affect is a waste of time.

So anyway, all this to say that I felt prutty strange to find out that I was the cause of someone's belief in reincarnation. When I was young, I apparently spoke way earlier than normal ... and perhaps this is why its better if you don't. Supposedly, before I was two, I casually told my mom stuff about remembering a past life ... and describing details about it. And then, when I was three and my grandmother had been dead for a few weeks, I suddenly stopped being sad about it. When my mom asked, I replied something like "I'm not sad anymore ... she died because her body was too tired but its ok because she will come back as a baby with a new body ... but I won't be able to recognize her". Now where the hell did I pick this stuff up? Did my parents let me watch twilight zone when I was young or something? I still don't believe in reincarnation ... and its just so strange that I should have been the one shaping someone else's belief regarding something who's existence I refuse to recognize today.

I also found out where my dads strange law enforcement connections stem from ... well at least its from what my mom told me. Something about him working as an informant for the police ... although he has always refused to admit it. I seem to have a wackier family than I thought.

Its almost 5PM (a.k.a. the hour of freedom) and my brain is mush. I didn't get much sleep last night. Fortunately my idiotic roomate wasn't there ... maybe the martians did us all a favor and abducted her ... I wish. With a little luck she will be away until wednesday.

I went to see my landlord to pay the first rent ... it turns out the AC means I'm gonna have to pay 25$ extra per month for July and August. I guess its understandable since he pays the electricity ... and he can be prutty sure I won't feel guilty about using it. He seems like an all around nice guy ... he even got me the fridge and oven like we agreed so I don't have .to worry about that. Hopefully tomorrow I can manage to get my appartment key.


I still feel frustrated by my roomate and the only way I can see being able to deal with it is to be honest. Next time she says something about being afraid or something nasty about my ratties, I think I'm gonna tell her exactly how I feel : I think you have problems, go see a shrink to deal with those irrational fears of yours. Perhaps also that just as "she doesn't pay to live with animals", I'll perhaps say that I don't pay to live in a place where I'm persecuted for my animals ... especially in place that allows animals. Maybe this way I can avoid ripping her head out ... maybe she'll snap out of her lil snobbish show and open up to the real world. And if she persists, I'll tell her what I really think is the problem : go get laid lady! Although I definately understand why she doesn't have a boyfriend ... can't blame the guys but man ... she really needs to let off some steam.

Although in private I'm a total asshole, I try not to insult people, not to tell them mean things but I'm getting to the point where I definately just want to laugh at her because she represents every single thing I loathe ... snobbish ... falsely nice and yet thinks of herself better than the rest of the world ... criticizing the way everybody looks probably because she knows she's not that attractive ... bad oily skin, no breasts, skinny as a skeleton ... nasty hair ... ugh! Somebody do the world a favor and render her mute!


I feel better this morning. The temperature is more reasonable and will stay nice and cool over the next week so I'm not afraid for the monkeys. I had a discussion with Twiggy (my anorexic-looking roommate) ... I don't remember where I heard that but there is some sort of saying that mentions you should always be wary of someone who neither loves kids nor animals ... well thats her. She has serious issues with anything animal. There was a fly in the kitchen and she would scream anytime it got near her ... geez, get a life.

I just can't understand her because I'm a total animal enthusiast ... I could prolly end up loving a pet tarantulla without any problems ... I like all animals no matter what they are. Sometimes I think its all fake, when people run away when they see a spider ... I mean are they really afraid or is it because its what they think is the socially-acceptable girly-girl attitude?

She said that smelling the cage (who was in the hallway) almost made her puke ... geez, first I had cleaned it right before putting it down and no it doesn't smell when its cleaned because the wire floors are all covered with plastic which I clean with alcohol every damned day ... just the smell of aspen ... pfff. The most hypocritical thing of all is that she says she likes horses and doesn't mind their smell ... I mean COME ON!!! Which one smells more : 4 ratties or one horse. She went on to say that she doesn't pay to live with this ... meaning the ratties ... I should have told her that I don't pay to live with a freak. I mean what do you expect when you rent somewhere where pets are allowed.

When my roomates were boys, they may have been messy but at least they weren't so picky ... I feel like I'm living with a 14 year old. I dunno, maybe skiping my meds didn't help ... I do feel it like it slows me down ... well not really but calms the emotions ... numbs them in a way.

Hopefully the temperature will be nice and I'll get to see my mom. Janus is off somewhere on Sunday so maybe I can go in chinatown with her ... have a bubble drink ... eat fast food ... and have fun till 8 or so as the shops are open late.

Surprisingly, I'm starting to agree with Herezy because guess what ... my roomate lives in Verdun ... I guess it explains alot.


Well, I've finally done it, ordered my very own air conditioning. supposedly in stock so I should be getting it next week. Hopefully I can install it next week and move my babies to my new apartment, away from the heat and idiocy of my roommate.

I can't believe what an idiot she's being ... I mean I rent the same place as her so why shouldn't I be able to move the cage downstairs in the space no one uses ... she's freaking out because she smells the aspen the freaking aspen!!! I mean ok it does smell like wood ... so what? Is it worse than when the other girl cooks food?!? Why should she mind if anyway she's off to work AND they will be back in my room BEFORE she gets back. I guess if I ever have to do it again, I'll just wait for her to leave ... pfff ... such an idiot. All I'm trying to do is make sure the rats don't fry and she's freaking out because she can smell something ... I mean get a life and stop freaking out!

I really hate people with irrational fears like that ... grrr ... afraid of this, afraid of that ... makes me want to slap them silly. I mean grow up ... I still can't freaking understand people who can't see a spider without going insane ... HELLO??? you're only what? 1000 times bigger? Canada doesn’t have any super poisonous stuff ... such dumb irrational fears ingrained into silly little girls minds. Nah ... I wouldn't want to slap her ... I'd like to push her in a big muddy hole ... so she's be totally dirty and smelly. She's always talking about how ugly everybody is around here ... guess she hasn't looked in the mirror in a lil while ... miss anorexico-pathetic. Face like a pizza, hair like a esso pad.

Its hard to calm down when I'm defending the ratties. Perhaps its irrational, I'm probably way too attached ... but I dunno, I don't complain about her freaking hairballs in the shower even though it makes me want to puke ... I don't bother her for frying stuff and not cleaning afterwards ... she is slowly pushing me over the edge.

The edge of insanity or the edge of homicide ... that remains to be seen.

Last night was hell, I think I fell asleep around 2 or 3 AM and got up at 5. Slept with the ratties by my side so the fan cooled us down ... poor little dudies ... I feel so bad for them ... I just wish the windows in this place would allow for an AC ... it would be so much simpler. I hate the heat but I can stand it ... they can't scape their cage ... I don't want to find 4 lil cadavers in that cage. It was fun watching them "skate" on the block of ice I made.


Ah the joy of being kicked out of sleep by your own dreams ... I felt caught up in a nightmare and whenever I tried to go back to sleep, I would slip right back into it. So I ended up getting up around 5:30 ... a little more than an hour earlier than usual.

I'm starting to think more about the move ... the furniture I will need and such. Though I would like to shop, I'm refraining from doing it right now because I haven't had the chance to measure everything yet ... I don't want to end up with stuff that doesn't fit. Only 22 days left in this lil hell hole I call home ... only 22 days of yucky black hair in the shower ... hopefully I can manage without resorting to homicide.

I went to see the head shrinker yesterday but it was sort of bland. I don't know, perhaps because I've locked myself away from my father or maybe because the crazy pills are slowly turning me into a numb zombie who doesn't feel anything.

It has definately taken away the feeling of hunger. Yesterday I was barely able to get 1/2 piece of bread down and a small thigny of yoghurt for lunch and then another toast for dinner. Its not that my body doesn't crave food but rather that it doesn't tell me anymore. I don't get hunger pangs at all ... but after a few hours I do start to feel whoozy. But so far so good ... its the only annoying side effect ... much better than the previous ones ... and I can afford to lose 10 more pounds while remaining a "healthy" weight anyway.

Spent nealy 50$ on food and treats for the monkey gang ... maybe because I feel bad for leaving them alone for 5 days. Although I hate shopping, spending for the monkeys is always fun ... abeit a little bit depressing because I have to go to a petshop. The ratsies were too high for me to see which is a good thing. There was a tank with little white mice in it and they obviously had a terrible case of mites ... there was a little male who was compulsively grooming himself and about one third of his body was stripped of its hair and the skin was covered with scabs. In another one, there was a dwarf hamster, sitting pathetically in his wheel bitting at the metal ... though after a few seconds I realised he was frustrated because his wheel was stuck in the litter and wouldn't run. At least I was able to help him ... poor little guys.

I have such mixed feelings about animals. On the one side, I hate animal abuse but at the same time, I realize that so many things depend on exploiting animals. Even those crazy pills, who knows how many rats died after being stuffed full of them. The leather coat I have, it used to be the skin of some poor meat cow who barely had the opportunity to live between being fattened up as quickly as possible and being sent to the slauther house. But in a way, I think animal suffering is even more morally disgusting when its in vain. But the problem lies in deciding where one draws the line between the necessary and the superfluous. Do I absolutely need milk? Is it possible to make cosmetics without testing them on animals? Can killing an animal be considered as art? Considering that meat products are far from being the most efficient form of agriculture, can we justify the production and consumption of such things rather than say ... cereals. What about that sushi I love so much? ?

When I'm appaled at corrida, disgusted by circus animals and angry at rodeos ... am I being hypocritical?

I feel nervous, only one hour left to work and one night till I can see my significantly purple plushy other. I've had one hell of a time trying to concentrate at work ... there is absolutely no pressure and thus an almost total lack of motivation. Everything is drab and boring, I just want to go home and wash the floors or something because YES its almost more rewarding than my job right now.

Now thats a scary thought.


All of a sudden, I feel like I'm in a cheesy remake of the movie PI. I woke up this morning with a splitting headache. Took a tylenol and waited. Nothing happened so I took a Mydol about an hour later. The pain subsided but not entirely ... I can feel it ... insidious ... its still there, behind my right eye ... barely noticable but oh so annoying. I seriously feel like drilling a hole in my cranium to let the steam out ... like in one of those pressure cookers. Its a maddening sensation and yet there is nothing I can do about it xcept hope it will go away.

The megaphone was at it again ... but this time it was her darn sandwich! ARRRGH! She should produce a cooking show or something.

I feel violent right now ... so I'll stop thinking about her.

Despite the pain, I'm rather happy today. At least it beats waking up to no hot water like yesterday. I think I am getting over this new med. My thoughts are clearer and though I do feel less angry at everybody for no reason, the violent thoughts are back. Call me indecisive but in a way I missed them. I think perhaps because they have been part of me for so long, its hard to be faced with mental silence all of a sudden. Its a strange dilema : constant b-rated horror movie going on in my head or numb silence?

The weekend was nice ... the temp stayed relatively decent and I had fun. Hopefully the next one will be as well.

I'm not quite sure why but I keep getting frustrated at old people ... on the street, in stores, in public transportation. Their slowness is irritating ... the way they walk and look like they're always going to fall.

What's worse is the thought that the proportion of elderly people will only rise. I also realize how politically incorrect this is but I dunno ... its just the way I feel. I know one day its going to be me ... just strolling along pathetically with a cane but in the meantime it bugs me nontheless and I'm sure in my time I'll bug younger people. Its so contrary to our over-scheduled, always-in-a-hurry society ... its almost insulting.

Another thing that trully bothers me is women with big purses! Ok so I'm a woman too but I don't carry one. Its not the bag itself but its the tendency of many women to wait until de clerk tells them how much the total is before starting to look for their money and it takes forever. Quite often, there seems to be a positive correlation between the size of the purse and the time it takes them. I don't think I will ever understand the concept ... its too small to carry anything substantial like books or whatever, its bad for your back, its a super easy target thieves and yet 90% + north american women seem to feel an almost compulsive need to carry one. I don't know ... I just love when I have no bag whatsoever to carry.

Ok, enough venting for now ... off to my house to bake some cookies for me and the monkeys!


Yay! Its picture time ... First off we have Chance ... that cute lil piece of a raccoon we picked up on the highway last week. These were taken about 2 hours after we found him. He would suck on my fingers and purr as I scratched his back ... such a cute lil bugger. I wish I could have kept him but alas ... he's better at my sister's place.

You will have to excuse the crummy t-shirt but mine was full of raccoon hair, milk and mud.

And now yet another reason to make me think that I live in one of the most insane places of this planet.

For those who can't read it I quote : To whom it may concern ... whoever stole the peony (I guess it must be some sort of plant) ... you could have left me half to grow my own! SELFISH PIG!!! You are marked now!!! People are watching!!!

Talk about friendly neighbors ... both the ones who put this sign up and the idiot who stole a damned plant.


I feel seriously betrayed ... damned doctors ... they tell you a pill is for something and you end up finding what its really used for is something totally different. Its not fun. I could handle the other stuff ... but this is plain scary. Does he think I have something serious and decided not to tell me.

Its freaking me out.

It makes my mind numb.


Another week begins but I feel ok. Its probably because the house of commons is not sitting in next week ... making this week much more relaxed than the previous.

I really hate the neighbourhood I live in ... its sad and people donít seem to want to make it any better. The trash is strewn everywhere ... the kids wait for the bus, their faces still dirty from whatever ... the cats plague the garbage cans and the people are loud at night. I go by counting the days before I can move in.

As a general thing, I seem to be feeling a little bit better on average. The side effects are winding down as Iím getting used to it. But unfortunately the violent thoughts are still there. Last night in the taxi, it occurred to me that the driver would make an exquisite victim ... were I to have a knife. Grab the head and SLIP! Driver gone bye bye! I mean I donít want to do it ... and obviously Iím not going to. What bothers me is my morbid imagination. Maybe I watch too much violent television. Seriously though ... the head shrinker said that thoughts like that a symptoms of some sort of social anxiety. The fear of losing control of oneself in front of other people ... the fear of doing something inappropriate that would attract attention to oneself.

As I am writing this, it occurs to me that since I canít seem to get rid of them ... maybe I should learn to live with them .... maybe I should channel them into writing or something productive along those lines. Maybe if I write down all the worst scenarios that haunt my mind ... of what would happen in my alternate crazy mental life, they will be exorcised.


Ugh! Bad day. I guess the rain is getting to me. On one side, it seems to depress me but on the other, I feel a sort of connexion to the grey temperature. Perhaps because its only on those days that the outside mirrors my inner self.

That is all.

01/05/03 (part III)

Quite a prolific day today. Learned (oh joy) that my damned evaluation only got sent on Tuesday which means I prolly wont hear from my doctor for quite a while which in turn means Iím in trouble. In 8 days Iím going to run out of the .75 meds .... most likely before I get to see him. Guess I better get prepared for nightmares. But I guess I can always try and separate the 1.50 by hand .... would have been easier with solid pills ... not freaking lil grains. Gotta love the crappy healthcare system.

A rather bland day at work .... as depressing as ever. The megaphone came to see me today but fortunately she didnít stay for long. Its funny to see the guy in front of me just as pissed and annoyed by her. But I wonder .... are the people we hate something thatís necessary? I mean, if she left, would I feel a need for someone else to hate? Perhaps not as intensely but I still wonder.

01/05/03 (part II)

Nothing beats sleep for inspiration .... the lady has a name : the megaphone. I think its rather appropriate.

Just deleted my junk mail. Spam can be fun sometimes. I got a mail with ďshed while you sleepĒ as a subject. I guess people donít think twice about naming their spam mail. It only conjures to images in my mind. First one is someone sleeping soundly as some creep from that company sneaks in the room with a big knife and ďhelpsĒ the person ďshed a few poundsĒ. The other one is someone getting up, but all his hair end up staying in bed. Yep ... really the type of diet youíd want to try.

I feel strange, cramps are making me even crankier than usual. I feel like biting a chunk off someone ... or perhaps flipping my desk over .... ok so perhaps the fact that its at least 300 pounds makes it a rather bad idea ... but my whole body screams ďNEED TO EXPEND ENERGY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Ē. The megaphone better not start yelling today. Things could get ugly. A lot of people are absent .... so there wouldnít be too many witnesses .... though I suspect Iíd get more thanks than problems from them.


Wednesday night or perhaps I should say Thursday since its past midnight. Iím glad the day is over. I ended up working late last night till 1 AM or so because I wanted to make sure my two notes would be ready in the morning. Well, sure enough, one of them got thrown off the Cabinet agenda, which means I basically wasted an hour of sleep. Bleh! Hopefully it wonít disappear completely and the note will still get sent.

Work is sort of paradoxal these days. One the one side, its nice and quiet. I do my own things, I donít feel under any pressure. But on the other, I hate the uncertainty, about the budget, about our agencyís future and so on. Iím starting to get tired of all this crappy paranoia. In the beginning I thought I had found some sort of job security so I can have the peace of mind I need but it was all an illusion. Its depressing. I guess Iíll never find a job I can be sure I wonít lose. Save perhaps self-employment. But thatís no better because it brings even greater uncertainty. Itís a sickness of modern times. The constant changes, the forever motion of things. Iím not quite sure its very healthy for the human mind. Our bodies follow patterns, so isnít safe to say that perhaps our mind prefer them as well. But as with everything, this would only make sense in reasonable amount.

The meds side effects seem to be going away a bit but the full effect of the new (and hopefully last) increase in dosage has not hit in yet ... should kick in after two weeks or so. Hopefully it wonít increase the restlessness Iím experiencing. Iíve started to notice I get into the habit of moving my feet all the time, swinging my legs, changing positions constantly as if I need to expel some energy. The best way I can explain it is that its sort of the same type of ďcompulsionĒ that might make one bite its nails when nervous. The only difference is that I really donít feel anxious or at least I have no sense of what Iím anxious about. Its almost totally automatic and seriously pointless. Iím finding ways to sort of cope with it. I can move my legs super-vigorously for say a minute or so and then it buys me quiet time afterwards. Its also strange because I always feel that way at the same time of day ... in the afternoon I go back to ďnormalĒ and I can work quietly.

Iím thinking that I should give a name to that women I hate at work because it would make it simpler to write about. Iím trying to think of something loud, something annoying ....


Last day of the week. Definitely my favourite one. I just canít wait to leave this place and go home. I donít have much to do as what I was waiting for came in yesterday and I finished it late instead of leaving it for today.

On the good side, my phone line is back and safely protected under 2 layers of duck tape and one of masking tape. The silly rats wonít be able to get to it ... or so I hope. But no matter what they do ... I just canít help but love em to death. Perhaps itís the fact that I know they only do what is in their instincts. I really donít understand people who mistreat animals. I mean all they want is to do what nature tells them to ... they never intend to make you suffer or anger you ... so why hurt them? They give you unconditional love and ask for so little in return. This morning Guimauve gave me a manicure ... she grabbed my finger with her silly little hands and proceeded to scrape clean the underside of my nail, lick a small wound that was bleeding and remove the minute pieces of dry skin that were around the base of the nail. I love it when they do that. I also like the licking sessions they give me or when they decide that my hair need some grooming ... they seem to really like the smell of that new olive oil / almonds / honey soap I use. My only fear is that one day they will get a little bit too enthusiastic and Iíll end up with a bald spot.

Iím in a better mood than yesterday. Perhaps its because itís the end of the week ... or perhaps its because I finally got to talk with Janus on the phone. I feel a bit nervous though ... well not nervous really ... more jittery. Like my whole organism is in overdrive. I feel like running, I feel like jumping, in fact, I prutty much feel like anything except being stuck in a an office.

Lunch was nice, though a bit long ... I really wonít get much done tonight .... but its no hurry really. Unfortunately for me I was sitting right in front of the person I donít like .... Ugh! To watch her scrape every last bit of icing from her desert plate and then licking the spoon, you could see the light in her eyes, gleaming with a sickening light. Its obvious sheís on one of those crazy diets where you donít get to eat anything sweet, salty or fatty. Such an idiotic process .... plus you end up like her, almost going in a frenzy when you do get to have some sweet. She could prolly attain the same result by cutting a little bit of everything instead of doing something silly like a diet. Oh well .... she can die from mineral deficiency for all I care. I will only be the better.

Wally is my hero theses days


Wally is my friend ... he understands my pain

Its so sad .... hopefully Iíll never sink that low


The week is almost over .... I feel so tired, which is sort of strange considering itís a shorter week. Got about 5 hours of sleep last night .... slightly better than yesterday ... but Iím still way too tired.

Iím also a bit scared .... I had to increase my dosage again today .... and considering how sick Iíve been feeling over the past two weeks .... it doesnít sound too promising.

It never occurred to me how much fun Radio Shack stores could be .... its because all the fun is hidden in the misc electronics parts .... I have an idea for my next prank on my boss .... but it will require quite a bit of playing around with circuitry. Iím considering getting a soldering gun .... its always fun stuff :).

Only two more hours and I can leave .... and perhaps reconnect my damned phone line ... roommate wasnít there yesterday. I guess the wire is gonna need a major ducktape job to keep those lil gnawers at bay.

Whew! Its over, I can go home. I just want to jot down something I saw while going to get my dry cleaning stuff. There was someone on the public phone, a lady with an ugly bright blue jacket. Apparently she was talking (more like yelling) to her aunt .... about mediums and seeing something .... it was hard to understand. I thought her speech was a bit slurred .... that perhaps she was mentally challenged or something. But then, out of the corner of my eye I understood. In her right hand she was holding this HUGE booze bottle .... half empty. I guess it would explain the slow speech. It might sound silly .... but it surprised me because it seemed so out of place in a neat public servant shopping centre place. Would have seemed more appropriate in a Montreal subway station or something. I miss the strangeness of a real urban place .... I miss the surprises and the amazement. This town is way too neat and calm.


Here we go again, I canít sleep at night. Monday I was wide awake at 6 AM after going to bed at two and this morning I woke up around 5 AM. I really tried, I went to bed at like 10 PM but nothing would do it ... I just couldnít sleep. And now Iím dead tired and I feel fuzzy all over.

Despite the fact that it was a long weekend, it ended up being so so. Not by anybodyís wrongdoing though. I just felt numb most of the time. If removal of sadness is what the medications are supposed to do, I guess you could say they are doing their job. However, I never agreed to loosing my feelings altogether as a side effect. I feel empty ... I feel numb ... as if my whole being is just nothing ... irrelevant ... hollow. Sometimes I alternate between bouts of intense physical energy and violent macabre thoughts but Iím never "happy" or "sad" for that matter. Just an insane neutral which I find rather frustrating.

Its also depressive to think that after almost a year on those freaking pill, I still feel like crap. It makes me want to get off them ... to tell the doctors I donít need them anymore and just live with the depression ... at least I know its real ... and I donít feel drugged up. I want to feel love, desire and happiness again. I donít want to become a drugged up zombie ... which is what I feel I am becoming right now. I go from sleeping too much to insomnia, I donít feel like preparing meals anymore ... Iíve spent the last few weeks on cereals and toasts alone ... I donít feel like going out ... I have no desire for games ... I spend hours just doing nothing.

I have to admit the lows are much better than before Ö not intense and pervasive as they were before. But the price for that seems too high. Being depressed over not being able to get over depression ... how crazy is that?

On work related matters ... the person I donít like almost made me physically sick this morning ... she was yelling about god knows what again. Her voice is just soooo irritating I actually felt like puking.

I was only putting this entry to see if I can update from work ... so ... Kookiemaster out ...

For now...


Last day before I have to go back home ... not much to talk about ... or rather don't want to spend the time doing it ... so I leave you with this strange memorial I found near my house


Friday morning and a lot of work awaits me yet I really don't feel like doing anything productive right now. These last few days have been a bit hard on my system. The new meds increase is definitely messing with me. Most of the time I feel like running ... or anything to get rid of the extra energy for that matter. Its hard to stay in place and concentrate on reading stuff.

I fell victim to another of my bosses' attacks. He came in as usual to bug me and mess with my mouse but he banged the keyboard too hard and it made my coffee splash all over it. I cleaned it but some of the contacts are screwed. I stole another one from an empty office. Maybe after it dries it will work again. I'll have to get back at him for that one ... perhaps changing the keys on his keyboard and see how long it takes for him to realize it :P.

I finally got to see the private sector shrink. It was worth the wait. I didnít feel like someone made, I wasn't afraid, and she actually took the time to talk to me and ask tons of questions. When was the last time an doctor took 1.5h to help you.

She said the depersonalization crap might be linked to the depression and or be a general anxiety symptom. But she could not explain the things I see but they definitely arenít hallucinations ... which is good news. Something about interpretation error ... might be an eye / brain thing ... or yet another strange depression side effect. In a way I hope it is because it means it will go away when I feel ok again. Otherwise ... only time and tests will tell.

She seems a lot more aggressive with the meds part though ... she said its not enough to feel a little bit better ... and that it will only be high enough when I feel like myself again. I'm hopeful it will happen soon. The lows are a lot less low now ... but the darks stupid thoughts still come back. I feel happy a lot more often though. Sometimes it bugs me that it's a medication-induced happiness and that I might be stuck taking those pills for the rest of my life.

The one improvement I see is that although the anger is exacerbated, its more external than internal ... as in I don't fantasize about hurting myself but rather hurting others. It is still annoying but its more like I felt before. The nature of suicidal thoughts has changed in nature as well. Instead of a self-persecution mindset, when they come, its more of a desire to escape which, in my mind, is a lot better.

I don't know ... in a way I think the time will come when the anger will finally come out, when I will snap at someone, when I will yell at someone. Right now I can't do it but I feel stronger now. I think it makes a bit more sense ... as a sort of sign that I care for myself more than before.

Someone at work is driving me mad ... the way she looks, the way she talks, her voice that's ten times too loud. I generally hate everything about her. She inspires me very nasty mental images. Her round, porcine-like face, the way she speaks too loud, the way she mingles into stuff that's totally not her business, her mean, hypocritical comments, her air of self importance, the way she has to repeat everything 10 times to make sure EVERYONE pays attention to her even if she's just raving about her dam soup like every single day. I don't care about her soup, I don't want to know how its made, I only wish she would choke on it. I think its some sort of inferiority complex from being so short ... hell ... I'm taller than her. I have violent thoughts and mental images and yet I don't really want to hurt people, but I DO want to hurt HER!!

Top image and border thignies graciously provided by J-Desings