Procrastination and Derailment

I’ve gone through some significant changes the last three weeks. I’ve not consumed any cannabis, and slacked off on m exercise most shamefully. I had it in mind that because I got off work early, I could get a jump on my laundry, and earlier in the day I had plans to copy a CD and do some of the mindfulness exercises, since I would have the house to myself tonight.

What did I do? I used the weed whacker doing stuff I don’t know makes any difference and began listening to a story I’d listened to many years ago. I thin I enjoyed it more the second time. I just finished it, having sat on my ass all night playing games while listening.

Now, after midnight, it’s too late to do anything but the most basic. I could have totally still listened to this book and accomplished many tasks at a decent hour. Why? Why have I done it? I’ve got to find that webinar about getting organized. If I have a signal tomorrow, I could watch it if I get a chance….Fuck Fuck and Fuck.

I can’t help wondering if I would have gotten more done had I gone ahead and used cannabis. I also wonder if I haven’t trained my brain to only work well, be motivated, in the doing mind, if I am high.

When I decided to exercise after work,  I pretty much made up my mind ahead of time, that I would need to use cannabis to succeed. When my mood went sidewise, it seemed like maybe my increased usage was partly at fault. And I’d already suspected that I had trained my brain as described above.

I don’t know if I’ve gone two or three weeks without. I haven’t noticed any improvement in my self motivation, though I must admit my moods have not been as violent. I’ve surface fairly well above the last depression, though I do not think I am out of the woods yet.

Maybe if I could get back on track exercising, and taking care of business. I’m just glad I’m blogging sober. I don’t write much sober at all. I don’t feel like it most of the time. I’d stopped writing while high, too. I wasn’t ending up with anything worthwhile, so why bother. Instead I turned to selfie videos as a way to try and capture the thoughts that seem so profound when I am enjoying a high. (It doesn’t work).

And I didn’t enjoy the last few highs I’d had. It’s been pretty easy to not use. I’m going to stay with it, work on the mindfulness and get back into exercising. I’ve got to get a handle on managing my life, though.

I need to get to bed at a decent hour. There’s this self sabotaging pull to just fuck that up all the time. There’s a helpless deliberateness about it that is very puzzling. I really need to get to bed now. I’m worried about my job tomorrow. I know it will be alright. I’m still worried.


The End

When both your parents are gone, you’d have to be incredible deluded if you refused to come to the acknowledgement that you too are mortal. And so you try to find out what it all means. But you don’t like the answers you come up with. Would getting a kitten make everything okay?

I’m trying to help out with the Garden Club. I flamed out on Coast Watch. I’m so weak. But maybe that’s because I don’t have it figured out, how to help. How to give back. I pray for guidance, but it all gets screwed up because I’ve been trying to find some kind of shortcut, since I can’t see the way for myself.

Falling apart on purpose

I did a lot of video blogging this weekend but the gist of it was, I tried to have a manic episode to connect with a mysterious spiritual side of myself that I thought might have answers. I sure got answers, but no guidance. It was like, “You made your bed, so this is where you have to sleep.” But I can foul up my sleep so easy.

I lay down this afternoon and everything went white behind my eyelids and I thought, I have succeeded in losing my self importance. There was a vision “TH” had a large part, the dandelion battle. I am not comforted by what I once was. I clawed my way back to my life and saw everything as a big mistake. I really didn’t know how to get a handle on anything, but I had written a list.

I crossed everything off the list, but I still haven’t done what wasn’t on the list. But it all came down to the questions, “What are we trying to accomplish out here? Country living? We will be swallowed or washed away.”

I took so much video. I don’t think even I can stand to watch it all. It might be hard to get it off my phone now. I had my chance. I pray to God everything will be back to normal tomorrow. I can go back to being self important. and try not to be too butt hurt when no once else holds me in such high regard. It’s safer this way I guess.


I dropped my fecal occult test off at the lab at 10:10 a.m. and they left a voicemail on my home phone asking me to call them; time stamped 1:38 p.m.. I called at 4:55 and the switchboard woman told me they’d turned their phones off, but she said they returned calls at the end of the day, so she thought they’d call me with anything urgent. Maybe they just wanted to tell me “Uhhhh, you dropped off a bunch of shit today, and we don’t appreciate it.” Maybe I did the test wrong. Or maybe they’re really on top of things and they did the test and the result was, “Shit!” Then again, maybe they realized this is a scary thing to face and wanted to share the good news with me as soon as possible.

I guess I have till Monday to find out for sure. Joy.

I’ve got to run back into town and pick up some food for George’s day here. Some bread and sandwich meat. Some kind of beverage. I really lack imagination in the culinary department lately, but there’s a 9 mile detour in effect started at 8:00 p.m., so I need to get over a few things fast.

So, I’m back from town and I started in on the alcohol again. I made a white russian, but went a little light on the kahlua so I added sloe gin and baileys and managed to make it taste like cough syrup. Next, saving on milk, I made a B52, with the idea that housework will be so much better with a buzz, and maybe it will counteract the tea I drank before I made my town run.

That worked pretty well. I managed to fill my car with gas. It was on E! Good time to use the 20 cents a gallon off. And I navigated the grocery store with no problems. Hopefully I brought home enough.

I wanted to sip my cocktail and wax philosophical over my impending mortality. I’m just rationalizing, really. I’ve been planning a vacation to Banff/Lake Louise. It will end up costing thousands if I follow through.

I’m not worried about the cost. The payout from my Mom’s estate should leave me with enough to throw away. I’d probably be better off to forget I have a passport and just save for my old age. But maybe I won’t have an old age. And paying for cancer can get very expensive. If I have it, hopefully I will find I have enough insurance.

I’ll be expected to do meaningful things with the time I have left. The other thing the inheritance has allowed me to do is substantially pay off my house. They haven’t logged it yet, but I owe about $25,000.00 after this next payment I make. It’s estimated I will get a further 60K, so 15000 on a vacation still leaves me with 20K to invest. I’ve got a good amount in savings, and all other obligations happening on a monthly scale. Perhaps the 20K will go toward the downstairs building and the decks.

The thing is, my ultimate goal was to pay off the house, thinking that would occur shortly before I turned 62. Instead, I am up 10 years, if I can expect good health. That is kind of in question now, since I have seen blood in my stool and there is this question of the results of the fecal occult test. Perhaps my days are numbered.

This begs the question, what I have I to leave behind? Is this place going to be worth anything to the next person? That is why another garage would be a good investment. The shop is what will sell this place, not my waterfall or my horse statue.

I’m posting on this page because I think I’ve succeeded at making this private, not traceable to my real self. I posted the first three paragraphs on a page that links to facebook, but this here page, no one sees. No one cares who does see. Am I right?

Well, I’ve achieved the kind of buzz that should make my adventure of housekeeping painless. I’ll shoot this into the cyberspace and see what happens.


Antihistamine and Marijuana?

You will scoff and say with scorn, is that going to be your excuse? But, I don’t need an excuse anymore, and it makes sense to me. Cannabis regularly dried up your mouth and eyes. Why wouldn’t it do that to your nose as well?

I figured out why I was fooled into thinking you could get an OMMP card, (or green card, as Ciera’s foolish stepdad calls it) for having a bipolar disorder. It’s because somehow, it got on leafly that certain types of bud were good for treating it. You can add any ol’ thing you want and it’ll pop up there. I’m waiting to see if my runny nose becomes a frequently chosen medical symptom.

Just saw a thing about Button Tapper Press. That’s a good name.

What good is all us creating stories? Someone will probably mine them to make more visible entertainment. And us, we get out of it the pleasure of creating something good.
Kristi has written a few smutty novelettes. She has a bit of a lecture at the front and back, and I’m not sure how that’s gonna fly. Guess it depends on how much everybody likes the characters. I like that she uses a character from her first book as a fairly large part of the second book. Even though I never read the first one. Don’t think I want to read the first one, but that’s because my pheromones are broken.

I’m pretty sure John was hoping my using Cannabis would net him some sex, like the good old days. It’s talks like this that make me want to be sure there’s no identifiable information on this blog. My poor heartdaughter would be mortified.TMI!

There are plenty of links in this blog now to identify me, but the point is rather, no one gives a shit to identify me. They are pretty busy with their own lives. Go ahead, have a stoney blog and don’t bother me. To be honest, I should probably change the tag line of my blog, being about bioplar thoughts and struggles. I’m not struggling so much anymore. I got it handled. Now, it’s time to clean up the house a bit. Just because I still have a drippy nose, wait, no I don’t. Okay I’ve really got to whip my self to do some basic maintenance around here.

Really, time to publish and get some housework done, so next weekend can be super awesome!

Buggin Me

I have to admit, I’ve been irritable lately. I flipped out a little because my kitchen had gnats, fruit flies, flying around as I was trying to make my salad, finding out that the refrigerator had frozen my veggies and ruined them. Okay, that’s enough to piss someone off, but I gave loud voice to my frustration.

I got chapped again at work, definitely more crabby than usual.Did it come from my weekend of weed smoking? I seem to recall I was crabby last Friday as well. Hard to concentrate on numbers, figure things out. Not really improved today. But not worse.  wasn’t able to have a meeting with my supervisor and boss, though, both being absent.

I confessed to a few at work that I had bought 3 grams of weed at Stonies, something I really hadn’t planned on doing. It doesn’t need to get around at work, but that’s a done deal now. Great. I have anxiety that the business isn’t going as well as the boss thinks it is.

I realize that all of this is of my own making. This is just a log of what may be side effects of using cannabis for a person with bipolar. I just did a little research and I can’t remember where I got the idea that I could have gotten an OMMP card because I have bipolar. Depression isn’t even a qualifying condition.

I also read an article about Depression and medical marijuana

Small doses. I have felt beneficial effects from occasional use, but I used quite a bit this past weekend, being unsupervised and in possession of plentiful fresh buds. In reading past posts, I talked about how I stay away from candy and caffeine for my health.I have been doing all three, too much weed, candy and sugared tea. And now my brain wants to rebel.

That’s all for now. My log of bipolar symptoms and my journey through the legalization of weed in my state. I got a surplus of candy still at the house, but I can quit using caffeinated teas and lay off the weed for a while. I’ll try to check back in here, to log my success or failure and chart my mood. I know you can’t wait.

I’m So Baked

Were it not for my intimate musing on her father, I would totally share this blog with my heart daughter,. I just bought my first legal purchase of weed. I bought three different strains. I want to see if I can tell a difference. I thought, I’ll try the Kush n Cheese first, then have some Dairy Queen before the write in tomorrow.

Turns out, I vaped the DQ tonight. It’s a total yoga and writing high. I ground it up real fine, then loaded the box what I figured was a quarter full of the kief. There’s so much kief left, I had to rig up quite an elaborate set up, because I need to keep it separate from the rest, to try the rest by itself, to see if I ought to blend the kief back into the mix. Can it be done?

I suppose I’m being deadly boring right now.  I feel super confessional, but also super redeemed. I totally want to get up from writing this and give my body and sweet stretch. Yeah, I still got it. I showed the folks outside Stonies tonight. I identified myself by my facebook cover photo.half a hundred in case you wondered, this is half a hundred.

I imagine how this could play out. Danger! But not from the police, from the weed and public confessionals and all like I’m doing. A story. Someone learns about this old lady, alone and getting high with a houseful of marijuana. (3 grams). I know just how to tag this to catch the attention of an unsavory element who is smart enough and hungry enough to want to come get my weed. I’d better lock the house up.

But I don’t have to tag or categorize it all all, and no one will read it until something spastic happens. I gotta go wiggle my way out of this.

I’m so stoned! Up to this point I’ve been vaping months old indica and smoking years old bud; yes, with a bong, Dude outside Stonies. Stonies. What a name. I suppose it sounds kinda hip. I want to move my hands around spastic like the girl in the hotel who ended up mysteriously inside a water reservoir. There is video of her in an elevator, twisting her fingers and arms around like I feel bound to do. I’ve got to honor the blueberry.

Unsupervised, in public! Oh it’s only my insignificant blog. But so long as I am beautiful, so long as I am entertaining, so long as I’m not foolish. Am I embarrassed to smoke pot publicly? Obviously not. I want to tell my story, but I have to make it entertaining, I have to turn it into pretend. Plausible deniability. Crap, I’m stoned, and not a person to see me. ‘Cept in line at Smokies, I mean Stonies, and anyone who might recognise my faceook profile from my wordpress one. I don’t know anyone who looks at one will look at this other, but how many people might read it? How many people would want to?

Got to make it beautiful, got to make it entertaining, got to keep it from being foolish. Posture: Yoga, body rush, recreational, solo, vulnerable? No, I’m not vulnerable. And maybe I paid for this pot with the money I got from making audiobooks, that aren’t embarrassing. Got to make it beautiful, got to make it entertaining.

The Evidence: I can be quoted as saying, I work for a very conservative boss who would most likely not want to know I was smokin’ weed. I can be quoted as saying, I didn’t realize I had a condition which could have got me smoking legal a few years ago. Course, I didn’t work at a place that would tolerate drug use, even for medical. I actually inquired about it and was told straight out no. But, on it states how good certain strains will work to treat depression.

Redemption? Johnny’s at a wake for his father. His funeral was today. I’ve been forgiven for not going, since I’ve already taken time off for diverticulitis and a broken tooth. My boss urged me to go anyway, but I’m anticipating a large tax bill from not having any withholding taken from my unemployment checks. Johnny wants to buy a van and I’ve just spent a grand on a stinking crown. Gah!

But I went ahead and spent $45.00 on weed tonight. I figure it will last me a ridiculously long time. Even if I smoked every single night, I wouldn’t use all that pot up for 6 months, I’ll wager. But I plan to be a weekend toker. A solo smoker and I’m not smoking I’m vaping!

I need to continue to do well for my job. They seem to be happy with me, but I should check in on Monday. I’ve been eating breakfast at my desk instead of setting my alarm earlier to allow for full face make up. I’m doing my eyebrows for the first time ever. I think I look pretty decent. I’m going to take a selfie with the laptop and post it here. That would be my biggest bid for verifying my public image with my real self.

video chat image

I’ve been tossing around the idea of making a truer to life story, about a middle aged woman who begins smoking pot as soon as it gets legal. She has a new job that doesn’t test for drugs and the state behind her. But she foolishly posts a blog about it with out being careful to hide her real identity and becomes the target of thieves who think they can waltz in and snag her $45.00 worth of weed and maybe take a laptop or do some violence.

Really, a person wouldn’t target someone’s weed at their house. It would have been easy as pie for the bicyclist to snag my pack as I walked by, to snag my bag, my bright white paper bag with my hot pink vials of three different strains of cannabis, all perfectly legal. If that were to happen though, the story would move to the boy who stole the bag.

But that may be a conceit, that young boys would want pot. Everybody in that line was over 30, that’s for dang sure.

I applied for a job at Stonies, back when I was unemployed. It wasn’t all that long ago, but I wasn’t sure if the other gal dishing out buds was the same as who interviewed me. I wonder how cool that would have been, if I would have bought my buds from her. The woman buying bud the same time as me was an older woman, hair done, make up and fit over sunglasses (sexy). All of us in line seemed mighty sober.

I love where I work. I hope I am not too obnoxious there. I’ve vowed to check in with them on my progress. How much more is there for me to learn? What am I not doing yet that I should be doing? I need to get up an extra five minutes and maybe not worry about using concealer so much. I’m going to get a new pair of glasses, as soon as I get the taxes paid and my crown and what not. Johnny wants a van, the driveway needs patched, we should finish the waterfall and build some decks. I want to get our lawn in order. On and on and on. Can Jann really support all of us? Will the conference be a disaster? Wait, weed is supposed to be good for anxiety. Wait, what?

Turns out, I got a bit of insomnia from the DQ. I made an anonymous profile on leafly, in order to make a review warning other bipolar users of DQ that it might mess with their sleep. I guess I should have said the paranoia side effects are significant, but really, how much of that is the fault of the actual strain and not just with a persons life circumstances at the time of intoxication? That’s why I bought three different kinds of strains. I asked to get one end of the spectrum and then the other, and then I’ll start discriminating.

A lot of this blog is stoner ramblings. I’ve cleaned it up a tiny bit, but I don’t want to destroy the log of me getting back into using pot, so this is as clean as it will get. And maybe it doesn’t track, and maybe it’s deadly boring, but this blog sees very little traffic anyway, so fuck it.