Shoot me in the face again

Sometimes it's just one of those "shoot me in the face" moments. It's Friday 9:09 in the PM and I am sitting here at work waiting for some drunk moron to call me and in a dialect of English that no one who isn't from the caves in the hills behind some trailer in Alabama could understand, ask me for a quote for insurance. He will believe that his 3 DUI's and various accidents shouldn't disqualify him for insurance and auto insurance is just a way for "the man" to rob him from all of his wealth that could have been spent in the bar on hard liquor. So, Shoot me in the Face, because it's Friday and if you love you, you will help me.

Insomnia would be better

In the last two weeks I have been haunted by the worst nightmares I have ever had. Before the last two weeks I have had nightmares about Jason Voorhees slashing me in the back with a machete, I have had dreams about racing to the top of a burning building while being chased by Freddy Krueger, and I have had dreams that I went to school or work completely naked, but nothing compares to the dreams that I have had over the last 14 days. I have dreamt every night for the last two weeks that I was at work. I wasn't being haunted by the ghost of childhood friends, I wasn't being attacked by a horde of zombies, I was at work, taking phone calls, talking to customers and doing all those things that I do in a given day at work. I then wake up and have to go to work. I wonder why I even bother sleeping because it benefits me nothing. Sleeping is supposed to be restful, a time to escape from reality, but my dreams are betraying me and throwing me back in the reality out of which I wish to escape.

I go into work the next day and feel like I never left. I normally sleep anywhere from 6-8 hours, but when I wake up from these nightmares I force myself to fall asleep again, trying to focus every thought on something other than work hoping that that will transfer into my dreams and maybe I will get one hour of real rest, but it is to no avail, I fall asleep to wake up in my dreams again at my desk working.

The dreams have subsided for now, but the last two weeks are in fierce competition for the worst two weeks of my life.

Dude, put that thing away!

I work with a good group of guys and we like to give each other crap, because that's what guys do. The reason that we are able to put up with so much verbal abuse is because we are all pretty self deprecating and for every joke that cuts down someone else, we make two that cut down ourselves. We all went out to lunch a couple of days ago and when climbing into my coworkers car I found something so vile, sad, and grotesque that I knew that I would never let him live it downYes, it was a fanny pack. I told him I could have found a mammoth stash of gay porn and I would not have given him any crap, but a fanny pack..... unacceptable. As a part of me never letting him live it down, here it is, on my blog.

The Economic Choke Hold and other wresting moves

It has been a particularly stressful week at work with managers storming up and down isles of cramped cubicles because they are being pressured by someone who has the power to make them uncomfortable, and if they can't sit down and exhale, they aren't going to let anyone else do it either. It's not that anything has changed, but as my mom put it, it's a bad time to be the BMW of insurance, or whatever high end something or other that you want to put there. We have been extremely busy, but not with selling anything, because it doesn't matter that we have the seat cushions that keep your butt warm, if we don't save someone money, they aren't interested. Our prices are a cold hard fact that the company refused to accept, and as you may know, denial is the best business strategy.

If you sing, I will rip your larynx out

Today is my birthday, but I am not a big birthday person, so while I had the day off, I opted to work because I apparently hate myself. My mom made a delicious cake and bought me an awesome book called "Lincoln, The Biography of a Writer." I am very excited to get through it. (thank you Mom) My brother sent me a text which is pretty out of character because the last time I sent him a text message he made me give him a quarter for the charge, so that's a pretty big deal. A text is nice because it says, "I know it's your birthday because I am a good person and I am not going to make us both feel uncomfortable by calling you and pretending that either one of us give a crap that it's your birthday." I would actually prefer that all my birthday wishes were through text, that way I could hide them and quickly delete them. The 16 year old in me is saying that 25 is so old, but the 25 year old in me still thinks I am a kid. I have a lot to complain about very soon, but I just wanted to check in and say hi........ "hi."
Worst birthday cake ever!

No, thank you, for making me cry

The water here in the Phoenix area of Arizona tastes like..... well, it takes like water, or rather water from a muddy puddle. When I lived in Oregon the water tasted great. The water that came out of the hose was clean, cold, and delicious; on the flip side, I don't like touching the hose water in Arizona with my bare hands. I used to laugh at "Hollywood" buying their bottled water and how stupid and wasteful that was. (They could drink from the hose like the rest of us) (let's keep in mind that I lived in OR until I was 11.)
I now own a water cooler and fill my 5-gallon jugs of water at one of the many local water stores that sprinkle the area. A water store is generally the smallest store located in a strip mall and in addition to offering water treated to reverse osmosis, they sell: pop, ice-cream, and assorted candies. I walked in and was immediately greeted like a king. They took my jugs from me, filled them and then profusely thanked me for my business. "Thank you so much for your business, we really appreciate it," the owner (I assume) said with a puppy dog face that looked only seconds from breaking down into tears. A sign on the register said that debit would only be accepted if the purchase was more than 3.00 and for the first time in my life, I really felt bad for not having cash. I bought 3.35 in items and felt awful that this poor little shop that was in obvious dire need of my money would be charged by a company because of my use of a debit card.
On a side note, my favorite taqueria is going to be shutting its doors in less than a month because I am the only person that ever seems to go there.
I don't care if McDonalds has to close a couple of its rat hole locations, or if the Wal-Mart stock goes down a couple of dollars, but when local businesses struggle, I do feel bad; it just feels more personal. I wish I could do more to help these companies, but there is only so much water I can drink, and only so many tortas that I can stuff in my mouth. So, to the extremely grateful shop-owner, thank you for your thanks, but you really just made me want to cry.

OCD and Me (ugh, that's aweful)

Dictionary.com defines OCD as, "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder." (okay, that's a little tongue in cheek)

This will be a short post, because let's be honest, if you have read every word out of my last three posts (being of a dauntingly long winded nature) you need to get a hobby or call a help line or something, just get help and get it quickly.

Today I just wanted to talk for a second about something that I do that is rather odd. Sometimes I like to tie myself up and drown myself in applesa.....I've said too much (that was kind of gross, so for my easily sickened friends I am sorry (I think I just heard my pregnant wife throw up)).

That last part may not have been true. The weird thing that I do is really everything with a pen in my hand. I read, work, and eat with a pen in my hand. While reading with a pen is pretty normal (I, like many people, like to make notes in the books that I read), working is a bit different, because I work on a computer. I literally type with a pen in my left hand. It makes things a little more difficult, but I do it anyway. Now, I don't think I have the "O" in "OCD" because I don't HAVE to have a pen with me at all times, but when there is one around, it is in my hand. I have a nice pen at work that my parents got me for Christmas a couple of years ago and even though it hasn't had any ink for about a year, it stays fixed in between my middle and index finger as I type away at my keyboard.

The reason I mention this now is that I was looking at myself typing with a pen in my hand and I thought to myself, "well that's stupid," but I like it all the same.

Nothing big to report today (obviously because I am talking about pens) so until tomorrow when the world explodes and there is more to write about. (I couldn't think of a way to end that sentence that didn't end in a preposition.)

The best night of your entire life, brought to you by Ambien

I am not a picky eater, but I hate green beans. They seem so innocent. Green beans have little flavor, it's almost like saying you don't like lettuce, but for some reason my body will not allow them in the stomach. Needless to say, some people have different reactions to ingesting different items; The same is true when it comes to drugs and for the purposes of this post, the same is true when it comes to taking Ambien.
I got a prescription for Ambien about a year and a half ago for an international flight that I was going to be taking. I wanted to be unconscious for the duration so I went to the doctor and got a prescription. I took a single pill within the first couple days after filling the prescription and it was without exaggeration, the best sleep I have ever had in my entire life. I fell asleep seconds after I took the pill; I slept for 8 hours to the minute; I woke up without any drowsiness and didn't feel tired the whole day after.
Ambien is known to be extremely addictive and I understand why, it's a great drug, but in my defense, a year and a half later, I am still on my first 30 pills.
My experiences with Ambien have all been relatively similar, but my wife is a totally different story. The following are the only two times that I ever let me wife take Ambien.

1. After a fairly traumatic experience in flight my wife and I finally made it to Ecuador. It was the first time in about 6 years that my wife had been back to her home country and things were winding down from an exciting first day. My wife thought that there was no way that she would get to sleep and asked to take one of my Ambien. I thought it harmless enough and allowed her to take half of a pill. She woke up several times in the middle of the night because of nightmares and unable to tell the difference between being awake and asleep she would wake up breathing heavy screaming for me because someone was after her. I tried to console her, but with eyes wide open she would swear that someone was there and trying to hurt her. (needless to say I didn't sleep much) This happened a few times until she eventually drifted into complete unconsciousness. In the morning, I got up and showered and then tried to wake up my wife. I sat at the side of the bed in the hotel in which we were staying and kissed her cheek.......nothing. I then softly said her name in her ear......nothing. I then said her name in her ear......nothing. I then yelled her name...... nothing. Ambien, I thought, had killed my wife. I checked for breathing and was relieved (I mean, who gave her the Ambien?) to find that everything appeared normal, except the fact that this girl was aaaasleep. I put my hand on her should and gently shook her saying her name in a not so quiet fashion. She moved and mumbled. I was done playing loving husband and was worried enough to just do anything possible to wake her up. I then shook her a little harder and yelled her name. She mumbled, as if still asleep, "I can't open my eyes." Then again, more clearly, as if waking, said, "I can't open my eyes." Then she started getting scared and crying because she couldn't open her eyes. I thought to myself, "I know what I will do, I will open her eyes for her."...........Nope......the problem was not that her eyelashes had crusted together and made it impossible for her to open her eyes, it was rather that she has no muscular control over her eyelids and therefore could not open them. When I opened them for her, she couldn't see anything. She was scared that she had gone blind. I tried to wake her up more and get her to sit up, which was a struggle because she had about as much muscle control as a corpse and it was like trying to position a body without bones. I eventually got her sitting up, but she still couldn't see. At this time, my wife's sister was in the room, clapping in front of my wife's face to try to get her up (she also splashed water on her face. (This was more the "we're breaking up and I hate you" splashing water in the face, rather than the you're a catholic baby being baptized splash in the face.) She opened her eyes under her own power about 15 very long minutes after me first trying to wake her up. She stumbled into the shower and to this day does not remember that morning.

You would think that after that experience I would never let me wife take another Ambien ever again, but I am retarded and the hope of result was greater for my wife than the memory of reality so she begged me to allow her to take another. I am not sure why I did it, but I did and the following was the result.

2. Several months had passed since the first experience with my wife and the wonder-drug that is Ambien and she couldn't sleep. I allowed her to take 1/3 of a pill, knowing that a half a pill was probably a bit much for her. She fell asleep quickly, but within an hour shot up in bed crying that someone was going to get her. Her eyes were closed, but it didn't stop the tears of fear from flowing from her eyes. I asked her who was after her and she responded, "He won't let me see his face." I made some joke that I can't now remember and my wife laughed hysterically. She went back to sleep and I went back to a game of Tetris on my phone. Within minutes she looked over at what I was doing and started laughing at my game. She said, "That game is silly" and giggled. She took the phone from my hands and exited the game, looking at the digital icons that moved when highlighted. She giggled endlessly saying, "They are mooooooving, that's so silly." I paused for a moment and in shock said, Sweetie, you are high!" And sure enough, she was......very high. I have heard since that if you stay awake on Ambien that it makes you high, but had no idea at the time and because Ambien apparently had no power to put my wife to sleep, it only worked to get her as high as a kite. She woke up again later that night swearing that someone was after her, but I handed her my open phone and the giggles ensued.

We didn't have the traumatic experience waking her up the following morning, but the two experiences were enough for me to hide my prescription. Funny, because I couldn't stay awake after taking a pill if I tried. Ambien hits me like a truck and I am relatively certain that I could fall asleep standing up with a little help from my best friend Ambien.

European Dreaming

It has been decided. I am using my American Airlines contest winnings to go to Europe. More specifically I am leaving the end of April and flying in to Madrid, Spain and from there going through France and Ending in Italy, from there I will head back to the United States. I plan on seeing as much of the tourist garbage as I can, and eating as much of it as possible. I plan to come back with some stories and at least 10 pounds that I didn't have before I left...... There is a story about who I am going with, but I fear it's too boring to really warrant your time in reading it. I just wanted to give a small update. Other than that, all is well in the land of "Shoot me in the Face" which is kind of counterproductive for the blog.....it being titled "shoot me in the face," but I am sure that life will go on. Tomorrow I will be talking about one of my favorite things in the world.......Ambien.

Hospital Trauma

I have a feeling that with my wife being pregnant (if you say preggers I will punch you in the mouth) that I will be doing a lot of complaining about doctors, and today's post will be no exception. My wife had an acute fever with not so acute congestion and other symptoms that made her miserable to be around......I mean miserable all around (ya, that's what I mean). She went to work against her better judgment where she was so weak she thought she was going to pass out while driving. She called the doctor to see if she could take anything more than the Tylenol Cold and Sinus that she had been taking. The nurse said that she had to come in immediately as fevers can be very dangerous for an unborn child.

Now my wife is worried. She gets to the office and they start asking about her symptoms. They press on her stomach and ask if it hurts (my wife has had chronic stomach problems and has no gallbladder. Her stomach hurts at least a couple minutes every day and has done so for the last 5 years. She says that some of the touching hurts and the doctor says that she probably has an appendicitis. She is wheel chaired from the doctors office to the hospital (the entire time my wife is trying to convince the doctors that she just have the flu, but they won't here it.) She gets to the hospital and calls me. I came from work to the hospital where she is having tests done. She was calm and kind of perturbed because she was sure that she just had the flu and just wanted a prescription to help her get over it. They did an ultrasound, x-rays, blood tests, and tried to do a cat-scan, but due to the inherent danger to the baby (the radiation) my wife refused to allow them to do the test. My wife was given an IV and told that she couldn't eat anything in case they needed to rush her in to surgery. The doctor then explained that they think that my wife may have an appendicitis in which case the baby would have to be removed.......... So it was at this time that my wife freaking flips. I don't mean that to sound bad; I personally believe that she was totally justified in her response. She had already sent me back to work when the doctor told her this, so she calls me and I rush to the hospital (on a spare tire mind you, I had popped a flat earlier that day (ya, it was a great day)). So I get there and calm her down (she wasn't hysterical, but one can imagine how a pregnant woman would be if a doctor said they may have to remove her 3 month along unborn child). We wait another 2 hours and finally 5 hours after entering the hospital, the doctor comes in, says my wife has the flu and she should continue to take the Tylenol that she has been taking. 5 hours, 100.00, and no prescription later we headed home to shake off the horrible experience that was the hospital (fear factory).