Well, it’s the last day in 2006. Good riddance, I say. 2006 bit like a steel mantrap.
So here’s looking towards 2007 as a bright year full of kittens and lollies and kittens and kittens and posies and chocolate. (Oh please, oh please, oh please).
Let’s have some resolutions to break next year:
I am horribly disgusted with my pharmacy. After running me around over Prosed DS and telling me that it and Urised were discontinued, after running me around over my Alesse, after running me around over EC, now they’ve managed to put someone else’s pills in my bag and to charge me for them. That is when they’re not misspelling my name and telling me I have to pay $90 for something because I supposedly haven’t any insurance when they are the cockeyed noodles who’ve listed me under the wrong name. AGAIN. I am very highly considering pulling all of my scripts from them and taking them to Walgreens.
ETA I also need to mention the times I called in pain scripts 5 days in advance to make sure they would have the medicine for my refill and then, when I went to pick them up 5 days later, they still weren’t filled. Not to mention the one time I did that and they gave me one because they were out, even after I had called ahead of time to make sure they had it. You tend to forget things when you’re pissed. When some place also messes up 1 in 5 prescriptions WITHOUT FAIL and has for a year, it is time to switch pharmacies. Oh, and it’s none of their business how I take my HBC, it is only their business to fill it. UNPROFESSIONAL! I don’t care if one of the pharmacists went to school with me. Even if you know me, you don’t presume on the scanty relationship we had in the past because we were in band together. It doesn’t matter why I’m out early, it is simply your job to fill it. It doesn’t matter if I lost them, if they were stolen, if I took them because you couldn’t be arsed to keep EC handy and I was on a medication that stated that it interfered with HBC, if I skip placebos, or if I was going out of state and wanted to fill my pills early. None. Of. Your. Bloody. Business.
The charge for them was minimal but the fact that they didn’t check closely enough to make sure they got the right arse-coursing medication in the right sodding bag, then charging me for it and then, when Eloric called them to clear up the mistake, the had the temerity enough to ask him to waste his gas and his time on their mistake… he handed me the phone. I was tired of being polite to these people after all of the mistakes and the talking down to me as if I had come to them on the short bus. I told the pharmacist in no uncertain terms that we had had nothing but problems with them since September and this was the final straw. He said we could just bring their mistake back to them and they would make it right. Ec-sodding-scuse me? No. You make the mistake, you rectify the mistake. This is how it works. This is how I myself made up for mistakes to the customer when I managed the deli for Borg*Mart. You don’t make a mistake and then expect the customer to spend their money and their time to help you right it. It is your responsibility to make it right. If you can’t be arsed to take the loss, then you bloody well come out and get your mistake.
And it’s not as if the person running out here will pay for anything of it. Businesses have vouchers for that sort of thing and it is done on the clock. The only thing is wear and tear on the car, which isn’t bloody much, considering we lived on paved, flat roads and the weather is good.
And this is what is happening. They are dispatching some person to come and pick up the damned ferrous sulfate for a woman whose last name almost resembles my last name and whose first name bears no relation whatsoever to mine. All because they can’t be expected to double check their arse-coursing bags before they put them in the basket. I worked in a hospital pharmacy and we double-checked all of the bags. Two different people had to check them and that was after the pharmacist had checked them, so really it was THREE TIMES.
I don’t care that they charged me $1.89 I didn’t have to pay. I don’t care if anyone thinks this is paltry and petty. This pharmacy hasn’t been able to get 4 prescriptions of mine right in a row. If they don’t inform me they can’t get something, they’re substituting the wrong thing and if they’re not out of something commonly kept onhand, they’re giving me shite that belongs to another person, thereby causing someone else to be deprived of their script. This is horse-hockey!
We are discussing pulling all scripts as I write this.
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Ding-dong! Ferrous sulfate? Yeah. Here- have $10 and a good rant for your blog.
Christmas didn’t seem like Christmas this year. I’m a little disappointed that I had absolutely nothing from Eloric whatsoever. I started playing WoW because that was what he wanted for the holiday. I was hoping for a coffee cup or something. Oh well, I guess. I’m just being petty and selfish. Feel free to ignore me.
My parents liked their gifts. I got mother some incense and we got father some shirts. We got dim little Zane some chew bones and she liked them, like the good dim little dog that she is. The cats are still happy with their brushy thing but Prosper hasn’t been using his funion because it hasn’t been truly cold out since we got it for him.
I did nothing for Yule. I was sick all day with a flare, so I was popping pills and dying in Scarlet Monastery to make Eloric happy and to farm gold. Herb bags are expensive if you want a huge one, which I do. And is it me or does Vishas sound less than intimidating? “I’ll rip the secrets from your flesh!” Yeah with what? Party favors? I thought a head torturer or whatever he is is supposed to be more hardcore than that. Killed him. Killed his wife and grandfather-in-law for good measure. I’m level 29 now, in case anyone wants to know.
Other than that, we can’t be bothered to go to Eloric’s Christmases this year. Good, I say because I hate trying to mingle with his family. Everything I do gets interpreted as a terrible insult or me trying to be “better than thou”. I have different tastes than they do, so obviously I’m trying to slight them. Oh, and I’m supposed to forget all of the crappy things they’ve done to me in the past but they get to keep a running tally about how “awful” I am. I don’t need an overload on toxic people for Christmas. I have enough trouble trying to avoid the one still stalking me on the internets. 
I’m sure she knows that I’m playing WoW now. In fact, I think she created a new character just to whisper me the other day to see how far along I was. 
I guess it goes to show that even being a virtual recluse is not enough to keep toxic people out of your life. 
I haven’t mentioned here about Lestyn’s nickname, “Spiderslayer,” but now, unfortunately Thurien has earned a nickname: Dresser-slayer. I’m still angry with him. He’s damaged my antique tigers-eye oak dresser that I had from my mother when I got married. I was ready to skin him earlier. He decided he needed on top of the CD rack and caused it to crash into the front of the dresser, causing four or five nasty scratches on the front. That thing survived I don’t know how many years, my childhood and that of my cousins and friends, and then bang! Damn. My mother restored it long before I was born and now it’s marred forever. *sigh* It’s such a beautiful piece. I’m very upset. I shouldn’t be but am. I’ll buff it out when I get the stuff. *bigger sigh*
In game I’ve reached level 20. I have a lot of quests to finish. Laugh at me: I still haven’t finished my seal form quest. But I have a very nice staff, the name of which eludes me now, which I got on the way through Shadowfang Keep. Had to die and die and die and die to get it and can’t equip it until level 21… but I have it. Yay.
We also have a new inside joke here, which won’t make anyone else laugh but we find horribly funny. I have this Say programmed as a macro. I was watching Barrens Chat two days ago and there was a person online called ilikefood who was looking for his friend, I think. Anyway, he was just spamming the channel- “Austin, are you here? Are you coming Austin? Can you see me Austin? austin. Austin!” Eloric and I saw this going on and just erupted into gales of roaring laughter, so much so that we were both wiping our eyes and clutching our sides. It shouldn’t have been that funny but it was. So I set up a macro for my character to say “Auuusttiinnnnnnn!1!111!eleventypeepants!!1″ and I do it when Eloric is with me helping me quest. I think I’m going to set up another as a Say “ZOMG there’s a BEAR BEHIND MEEEEEE!!!” because I can’t count how many times Eloric freaked out forgetting that I was a bear following him through instances and he tried to kill me or gasped like I was about to maul him to death.
Ok. Enough stupid news. I have questing to do.
Well, I’m online right now having been fed-up with being killed repeatedly in the Southern Barrens. Yes, the unthinkable has happened- I’ve decided to go back to World of Warcraft. Actually, I said I would to try the expansion but you know how these things are: They swallow you whole.
I am currently a level 12 Tauren Druid (Go Horde!) on my way to getting bear form. Sort of sad, really. But I’ve been straying and getting killed by angry, electric kodo things… because- you want to explore when you’re bored and I have a friend who wanted to be there for the killing of the beastie where you get bear form. Yay. So I’m checking things out and getting killed by random 16 and 19 level beasts. Raptors and stuff. Oh, and I’ve been playing for about 3 days this time around, so I still suck. I can’t yet run around like Thurien on crank the way Eloric can but he’s promised to teach me.
Eloric’s computer died hours ago, so this means I’m going to have to fight him for use of the laptop. He gets to win though, because he has guild obligations. I’m just going to stand behind him whining: “Is he dead yet? Are you done yet? Why do you all keep wiping? I want to be a bear! I want to be a bear now!” Actually, I’ll probably just try to read my new book. I have The Boleyn Inheritance by Phillipa Gregory and it’s not up to her usual standard, being rather stilted and wooden.
And I’ve been to the therapist who has agreed with me on some points of my current unhealthy thought fixations, which is nice but it doesn’t solve the nagging thought in my head that I could have done something to prevent everything that happened. So I got myself a book on cognitive therapy from a Buddhist perspective, just to see if I can help myself while waiting for the next go-around. I’m also trying MoodGym for S&G.
Just to make everything lovely, I’m also flaring, so I have to go and see if I have enough pain medicine to allow myself to take one. This is because I’d rather put off seeing Dr. Asshat as long as humanly possible because he is, as his name illustrates, a raving ASSHAT. I don’t care for him but he’s the only one in my area who will at least make a small attempt at treating the pain I can’t resolve with diet and wishful thinking. He won’t take care of anything my light pain medications allow through, mind, but at least it’s something.
Well, enough whining. I have to go cook chili and rice before Eloric gets home. 
is married. multifaith/hybrid faith. certified food handler.
author. poet. otherkin. INFJ/INTJ. type 4. loathes wal*mart and her state government. adores 
cats, trees, earthsea, history,reading, coffee houses, and world music. david gray. boney james. mercan dede. hates having celiac disease. Interstitial Cystitis.
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Love in a Torn Land: Joanna of Kurdistan: The True Story of a Freedom Fighter’s Escape from Iraqi V by Jean Sasson
