Uhm, the brain hateth me. *ouch*
Work on Friday was okay, if boring. We had many many more customers than usual, which made things a bit more exciting than my copy of Take A Break (a magazine with Real Life stories such as "This Pork Pie Ruined My Marriage" and "Strangled at Seven Months" [Pregnant] and "Why We Are Losing Our Angels") and resulted in maths (and money!). And, uhm, that's it.
It has come to this: I am having a day-by-day pill organiser box. I'm not sure how much I can show the amount of Don't Want. Don't Want I'd like to believe that I am competent enough to deal with my own meds (especially since there is not a lot I am allowed to "deal with" myself as every one around me is "we don't want to worry" and "well, it's happened before" and... I hate it so much. I'd like to go out by myself (but I'm not safe in traffic)... (what if you have an attack?)... or play computer games after dark (your seizures happened at the computer)...etc
*fails* *suck* *meep*
In other news: hair cut! pills up! "you _are_ taking the right ones, aren't you? buzzy?"
If you were wondering:
a) story one was about a riot at a wedding staring with an angry woman who punched the mother of the groom after somebody (under the age of ten) hit her with a ballistic buffet item.
b) somehow this woman stayed with her violent English Defence League boyfriend with a Heil Hitler tattoo because he "wasn't really a bad person". He just beat up his girlfriends when they were expecting, forced them to have abortions or just kicked/punched them until they miscarried. Fortunately, this woman escaped and had her baby.
c) three children with horrible genetic disease and their parents.