Medicated

So I went to the doctor and got put on Wellbutrin to "Quit Smoking".  
It's going well, haven't quit smoking, but my mood has Greatly improved.
Someone at work recently is having trouble, and I thought to myself, "why do I keep struggling along like him, instead of just getting a little "help quitting smoking".   
Not sure it's going to be enough to keep me grounded, but it's worth a try, and certainly worth the effort if it keeps my kids world stable.  
If things get bad, I'll go in for some serious 'Quit smoking'  help, but at the moment, being medicated is a real last ditch effort.  I know how bad the medications can make things, and Richard doesn't want a zombie mommy. 

Gonna try and buy a house.  Hoping that it will keep me stationed and gripped to this job, and everything else.   Can't really freak and quit when I'm trying to get my dream house.    Well....  Hopefully that will work.  Not so sure if they ask me to stay after a 12 hour shift I won't flip them the bird and walk out. 
Honestly I know there are people that work those hours without a problem, and some that work even more, But I can barely function after 8, let alone 12.   I'm exhausted by the job, and the social crap,  and apparently if you're not sociable there they start thinking your crazy and 'got serious issues'. 

Makes me super angry.  Almost told a couple of the guys off.   Just because someone doesn't want to talk to YOUR SUPERIOR ASS, that makes something wrong with them?  Sorry, but your just not THAT amazing dude.  

But then I put on the smiley face and keep working, cause heaven forbid anyone has trouble getting along with these guys.    Screw them.  JERK faces. 

ANYHOOOOO. 
Ramble ramble fooey fooey.  BLAH.

Time to play "garry's Mod"  with the kid.

uP nORTH

Sitting in the cold.  Lately it seems like if I even get a little chill, my hands stop wanting to work so well.
I spent 7 years working in a shop with no heat, and now the cold gets to me.  Maybe I was just so used to it then, that now I notice it and go, Damn it's cold!

New job is good.  Love it actually, it's just the whole leaving my kid and being there 7 days swing shift that sucks.   Regardless of the 3 day weekend every 25 days,  I really prefer 5 days on 2 off.  The seventh day isn't so bad, but the 6th day of the stretch, you're ready for anything to happen to get you the hell out for even a moment. 

Going to breakfast with my guy in a bit.  Still working on him and my kid getting along.  I think my boy just doesn't want to lose anyone else, or doesn't want anyone replaced in his life, so is being very stubborn about getting attached in any way.  I know the feeling buddy, and I'm an adult and I struggle like hell with it.

Looked over my cyber-workforce story.  Really liking it for a short story.  At least for now.  Just gotta find the time.  My Rollalong hill story I wrote at my old job in a matter of  a week has gotten quite a few views.  Wishing I had the time to see what I could do if I really took the time on something. 

What's it like for people that don't work and have their needs met?  I was on disability once, so I kinda know, but I was so sick the entire time that I couldn't even enjoy breathing let alone the fact I wasn't working.  In fact I hated not working, and went back whenever I could.  Still at it, by the way. Almost 8 years now and no fall downs.  (wonderful movie... "falling down") .

So if anything, I hope my blog gets to someone and shows them that their is life after bipolar, depression, whatever label they throw on you.  It's still rough.  Still gets awful lonesome and depressing once and a while, but the good times are totally worth it.

Chin up.  Smile even if you don't mean it, cause someday, it'll feel real, and it'll be awesome.

~Nellie

mammon

Wrote a whole rant about money, and work, and people not understanding the difficulties of being an 'only' parent.
Deleted it all.   Just needed to vent.  The wind doesn't care what it blows against, it just blows.  
Just gotta make it through 11 more days of work before I get a day off.  
Hopefully they can work out the well issues with my house so it can be sold in the next couple weeks,  and then I can just relax.   Just get into the swing, and relax.   Kinda wore  out with being wound up tighter then a eunich's butthole.   It's like my brain is this muscle that's constantly tensed up.  I can't even sleep without dreaming about my worries.   Wake up after six hours just cause I'm tierd of dreaming about the shit, i'm trying to sleep and get away from. 


BAH!   I hate just bitching, but my blog is here, might as well use it.   Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice.  My job there was dead end, shop won't last much longer, so I would of had to move on soon anyways. 

At least the dog wants to play.  This fluff face just wants love.  Know the feeling buddy.  Lets throw your dumb stuffed duck around.  Tear it up Tonka.  I would do that too if it wouldn't look crazy.  Throw shit, run and get it, shake the hell out of it, throw it again.   Dog's have it rough.  But I couldn't live without them.  Remider why life is good.  Enjoy the little stuff, roll on the carpet, sniff the roses, bug your human till they give you love.  Cause you know they'll pet you eventually.  Hey~ maybe that'll work on my boyfriend......  tee hee.

Gotta get the kid into the bathtub.  

Moving up

I'm a factory rat.  That's what my boyfriend calls it.  Shame on him. In a year I'll be making more money then him.  He's been driving for that company for 17 years ( I think)    Glad I'm away from the old job, moved into a rental, sold my house...
Still haven't decided if all the money is worth the time away from home, and my son.  Haven't got to really enjoy it yet.  Waiting for my old house to sell, so making double bills at the moment.
Definitely good to be away from the other place.  I would have ended up quitting or getting fired because of how miserable it was there.   But I'm scared to death to lose this job and be homeless, bankrupt, all that jazz.  I just keep telling myself, 60 days and the fear will go away.  Then I'll be passed my probationary period, be full on union. 

Still....  worry worry.  Read through some of my stuff.   I still really like my story idea about the cyber-work force.   Kinda just adding to material in my head for now.  Hopefully I'll have the enthusiasm to start writing again.   If there was more in it then blowing smoke up my own ass....  Eh.
Picking my kid up from kidnegarden.   He really had a rough day yesterday (first day!), promised I'd pick him up instead of riding the bus for an hour.

My boyfriend says I spoil him too much.   But I prefer to see it as soothing both of us through a rough patch.  He feels better, he's happier, mama's happier.  We can't be perfect parents.  And if this little indulgence is so horrible then I guess I'll live with that.   Spoiled or not, he's my boy and he's gonna know his mom loves him and will try to make his day better.  Kinda what we're supposed to do right?

See all you readers soon.  Still no comments from anyone....  wondering if all the readers are accidental clicks.

story idea

characters:
Maintenance man: Father of one girl. Age 35, specialist in growing secret cyborg workforce development.
Heather: daughter age 13 (clueless, sweet but rebellious)
The Company:  Those who are in the top 1% controlling companys which need cheap reliable labor, and a way to eliminate lawsuits and medical costs by employees.

Father and Heather have a fight, Heather sneaks out and is hit by car (or some other terminal tragedy)  Father transfers daughter to the cyborg labs.   He signs paperwork that suits her with the newest technology, but must give up all contact and give her away to work in 'the plants'.    She survives with little memory, and thinks she is still completely human like all the others in "the plant".

The maintenance crew:
Workers in the plant who fix and/or terminate the ones who are too injured to work, or are malfunctioning.

Crew:  workforce who do not know they are mostly synthetic, and are removed if they are too injured or mentally malfunctioning.  They do all the physically crappy work that no one else is willing too. 

Crew is donated or bought through large donations to familys of terminal patients.   After Heather was re-animated with the technology a group of humanitarians have stolen the information and materials needed to recreate her highly successful transformation.

Father has been seeking her after her location is kept secret.

10 years later:
Heather is most successful 'crew' ever created.  She has worked in the plants with no malfunction or breakdown for 10 years.  Most crew are 'fired'(terminated) within 2 years.  The crew are the only ones unaware of their cyborg/status.  They are confined to the plants entirely.  Most have permanent memory damage from the harddrive implants, and those who aren't have to be treated on a regular basis to keep memory from destroying their 'work ethic'.    After government approval death row inmates have also been allowed to be relocated into the plants.

Maintenance man falls for Heather,  Father finds a way to be transfered to her plant.   When Heather sees him her hard drive starts to malfunction.   She is sent to rehabilitation.
The boyfriend figures out she is a highly classified member of the crew, but the company has moved on to better technologies and de-classified her to be fixed or terminated based on her condition.
Father helps fix her(without revealing himself), and boyfriend never reveals himself but starts wondering if he can get her out.  She has such great repairs that she could live in the world with no fear of being discovered. 

Company catches wind, and decides that she needs to be brought in for thourough inspection by the company maintenance crew. 
boyfriend cons his way into the company labs, finds out the companies deal with the prisons has led to some tragic experiments that have failed or escaped.  Heather-if proven her technology could be duplicated-could be the key to a new crew of security that could hunt and kill the escapees.
Current security crew is flawed.  While prone to excessive violence and poor logic reinforcement, they also break after too much time in the field.  

They would have to destroy her to recreate the bonding that her father did 10 years ago.  

Father contacts humanity group, they all work together to free her, and release the records of "the company" to the public. 
Happy ending, Heather and maintenance man,  Grandpa maintenance man and the grandkids.  Cyborg tech becomes used in medical field not just to create workforce and heal the filthy rich, but to help heal everyone. 
 
Work in progress.  Just an idea formed from one of my many conspiracy theories.   Anyone who has worked long term in a manual labor job might sense how this idea evolved, others might get it, and yet others with think its dumb.  
After all, why would anyone choose to work in that kind of job for so long?  

Walking

Sometimes I go to bed and realize, "I still have my cloths on."
My brain does this rapid fire sometimes. Thoughts become remembrance, becomes idea, and I think, "I should go write that down."
Negative Nellie usually says "Nothing will come of it, just go to bed so you can get up and go to work without falling asleep at the wheel."

Well. Not tonight.
So I lay there, still with my cloths on.  Not startled by the thought that
I forgot to change into pajamas. But thinking how nice it would be to go walking, barefoot in the middle of winter.
Does that thought disturb me? 
"no."
I walked around Mackinac island once, half drunk, in the middle of the night after my first boyfriend told me he was gay.  After having my brother drive me 8 hours, and paying over 200$ to get there.  So what do I do?  I walk.  I walk all night.  Cold from playing in the water, but free.  Around the entire island. Do I get tierd?
"nope."
More thoughts cascade.
I ran away once when I was 8( I think), and what I remember most, was not the fear of retribution once I was found, if I was found, but the pure freedom in walking. Passed strangers houses, on streets unknown.  Did I get tierd?
"no."
I got thirsty, and a little snacky.  I went up to a strangers house and asked for a drink of water.  The nice lady got me some, and a few cookies.
I think I remember her talking on the phone to the police, and I left.
I was found shortly after.
But that freedom. I miss it.  And the way my brain slows when my body is trying to tell me "what the hell are you doing?"

Will I go sleep walking, and not remember the beautiful walk?  Will I dream of it and not remember?
But I can't go out for a walk.  Not barefoot or otherwise.
For many other reasons too, but because I have a family that depends on me to stay planted in this world.

I miss walking.  I just want to wander unknown to the world, unknown to myself, and slow it all down.  I want to think I can go lay in that bed and just shut down when I close my eyes.  I wonder how many things I've thought of and not bothered to write down, knowing full well I would forget it all by morning if not before.  

I would have done it before forest gump if I hadn't been 8 years old and without any real survival skills.  But I remember watching the movie and just sighing.  Like oh yeah....  Oh how I miss the slow world.

Sometimes the crazy tries to sneak it's way into my life, but responsibility keeps it from crossing any thresh holds. It sits in the corner like a lonely puppy  wanting to lick my face and be my best friend.  I ignore it, just like normal people who do it blindly.

Already I'm beginning to question my reasons for writing this down.  Why?  Will it make the longing go away?  Will it make the world more bearable knowing that I have a way to make it so?  Maybe it's just because maybe there are people out there who know exactly what I am saying and I am not alone in my quest to go to sleep without my brain rattling on at me as if there is so much more I should be doing instead of putting my pajama's on and going to sleep like a good girl.

My Internet is so slow, I almost lost these thoughts even before I got the browser running.  Now they are here, and maybe whatever sparked me to get up from bed, still not putting my p.j's on, and write them down will mean something more then something that ran through my head once that I had completely forgotten about.

I miss being part of the social world.  Having friends, exploring new things.  But then again I always dreaded it too. Hopefully the people that love me understand I am more happy walking alone, then trying to keep up with the world spinning around me.

Is it odd, or abnormal? Maybe by societies standards.  But how else can I hear the rain falling on the roof and wind howling through the exhaust pipe in my bedroom?  I mean with so much chaotic chatter, sometimes just walking can let a person avoid hearing it all together.

Off to bed I go in my sun dress, long sleeve top and stretch pants.  Hope it means something to someone.