Headfuck

Can’t Hack It

by Veronica on March 17, 2008

in Headfuck

pill2.jpg I had to stop my pill today a few days early. The fact that I spent most of the day crying over EVERYTHING was kinda that straw that broke the camels back.

I couldn’t do it anymore.

I KNEW the pill made my illness worse.

I KNEW the pill made me horribly depressed.

I KNEW the pill was the spawn of Satan and should be treated accordingly (ie: NOT swallowed).

Hopefully it will get it’s insidious little fingers out of my system fast so that I can start to heal. Because I really need to be well again, at least for a while.

Keep your fingers crossed that I don’t go back to bleeding incessantly.

————

After one of those fights with Nathan today  (you know those fights. They go “When do I get time off?! I can’t keep doing this without a break! I am tired and sick and lonely!) I have come to the conclusion that in order to be a good mother, I actually need some time away from Amy occasionally.

This is hard for me to write, because I always equated ‘good parenting’ with being there all the time, on hand all the time.

(Yes, shoot me now. I am stupid)

So I am tired and worn out. I yell too much and I am stressed alot of the time.

I need a break.

I am sick of yelling at Amy, Seven, Nathan, the toaster, the TV and anything else that may annoy me. I am sick of feeling so stressed.

We are in the process of discussing sending Amy to a home based carer for one morning a week. At least then, I would get some time off. Nothing is decided yet, but we have an info pack arriving in the mail so we can do some research.

The social factor will also be good for Amy. She doesn’t get to play with other children on a regular basis since getting to my mothers group became hard to manage.

Like I said, I need a break.

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One Thing On Top Of Another

by Veronica on February 9, 2008

in Headfuck

There will be lighthearted humour at the end of this post. I give you full permission to not read my whinging and skip to the funnies.

Thankyou all for the wonderful thoughts on yesterdays post, it was lovely to read them.

My period started this morning. So on top of Pop dying, I am not pregnant. Good times abound in this household, good times I tell you.

*sigh*

I am a bundle of emotions, but I am so numb that nothing feels right. I sit here and you know, my heart races faster as I write this and I feel sick, but I don’t feel like I am doing this the correct way.

What is the correct way to grieve?

I just feel tired. And headachey. And did I mention the tired?

Funeral will be held on Thursday. Valetines Day.

I’m not in a good place right now. Send me cyber hugs and chocolate, maybe some good painkillers to kill the period pain. And telling me I look pretty wouldn’t go astray, because this shit sucks. BADLY.

Oh so badly.

Now for the funny stuff I promised, because I do love you all. No, really I do.

Dead Parrot Sketch ~ Monty Python.

A customer enters a pet shop.

Mr. Praline: ‘Ello, I wish to register a complaint.

(The owner does not respond.)

Mr. Praline: ‘Ello, Miss?

Owner: What do you mean “miss”?

Mr. Praline: {pause} I’m sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!

Owner: We’re closin’ for lunch.

Mr. Praline: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this parrot what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.

Owner: Oh yes, the, uh, the Norwegian Blue…What’s,uh…What’s wrong with it?

Mr. Praline: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, my lad. ‘E’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it!

Owner: No, no, ‘e’s uh,…he’s resting.

Mr. Praline: Look, matey, I know a dead parrot when I see one, and I’m looking at one right now.

Owner: No no he’s not dead, he’s, he’s restin’! Remarkable bird, the Norwegian Blue, idn’it, ay? Beautiful plumage!

Mr. Praline: The plumage don’t enter into it. It’s stone dead.

Owner: Nononono, no, no! ‘E’s resting!

Mr. Praline: All right then, if he’s restin’, I’ll wake him up! (shouting at the cage) ‘Ello, Mister Polly Parrot! I’ve got a lovely fresh cuttle fish for you if you show…

(owner hits the cage)

Owner: There, he moved!

Mr. Praline: No, he didn’t, that was you hitting the cage!

Owner: I never!!

Mr. Praline: Yes, you did!

Owner: I never, never did anything…

Mr. Praline: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) ‘ELLO POLLY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o’clock alarm call!

(Takes parrot out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)

Mr. Praline: Now that’s what I call a dead parrot.

Owner: No, no…..No, ‘e’s stunned!

Mr. Praline: STUNNED?!?

Owner: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin’ up! Norwegian Blues stun easily, major.

Mr. Praline: Um…now look…now look, mate, I’ve definitely ‘ad enough of this. That parrot is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not ‘alf an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein’ tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.

Owner: Well, he’s…he’s, ah…probably pining for the fjords.

Mr. Praline: PININ’ for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment I got ‘im home?

Owner: The Norwegian Blue prefers keepin’ on it’s back! Remarkable bird, id’nit, squire? Lovely plumage!

Mr. Praline: Look, I took the liberty of examining that parrot when I got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been NAILED there.

(pause)

Owner: Well, o’course it was nailed there! If I hadn’t nailed that bird down, it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent ’em apart with its beak, and VOOM! Feeweeweewee!

Mr. Praline: “VOOM”?!? Mate, this bird wouldn’t “voom” if you put four million volts through it! ‘E’s bleedin’ demised!

Owner: No no! ‘E’s pining!

Mr. Praline: ‘E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the perch ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!

(pause)

Owner: Well, I’d better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry squire, I’ve had a look ’round the back of the shop, and uh, we’re right out of parrots.

Mr. Praline: I see. I see, I get the picture.

Owner: {pause} I got a slug.

(pause)

Mr. Praline: (sweet as sugar) Pray, does it talk?

Owner: Nnnnot really.

Mr. Praline: WELL IT’S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?

Owner: N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)

Mr. Praline: Well.

(pause)

Owner: (quietly) D’you…. d’you want to come back to my place?

Mr. Praline: (looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.

Thanks to this site for the transcript.

Also? Just cos I loves you? (and for everyone who simply scrolled down because they hate Monty Python.)

entangled1.jpg

Raptor

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