I'm still alive! Things are considerably less grim here now that my bloodlevel of Pristiq has stabilized, or at least they SEEM that way, and perception is everything, AMIRITE? Here are some updates:
* I bit the bullet and picked up the Pristiq, which meant giving up on Anthem, but oh well. As long as I don't get bronchitis or break a bone in the next month or so I'll be able to get on my employer's coverage at that point and this'll just be one more cringe-worthy memory. A reader-turned-Twitterfriend-turned-facespace-friend gave me a discount program code that saved me $30 on the prescription, which was a huge moral victory in that it took the cost from just OVER my former monthly premium amount to just UNDER it. SUCK ON THAT, ANTHEM!
* The title comes from the fact that one of the Feed Store Six is...not a hen. About a week ago SOMEbody started up with this sad, half-whispered puberty-crow, and we've been trying to identify the culprit ever since. We'd hear the pathetic little quasi-crow, and turn around, and all six birds would be standing in a clump looking at us going "peep?" This morning Hotter caught Flash II in the act, though. Chicken soup to follow! If I'm honest it's kind of a relief that one of the six younger birds is not keeper-material, because that means I can let one of the older four stay, and while I am not one to get emotional about smallstock (anymore) (much), there is one bird among the older ones who thinks she is a pet and runs up to crouch at my feet for petting when I go outside. And while I have a heart shaped like an axe, I don't think I can butcher something that LIKES me! The other three would cheerfully kill and eat ME if they could, so they're fine to go in the pot, Blacktop (the friendly chicken) can stay on as our "chicken emeritus" and show the five younger girls the ropes, and we won't be in violation of the c(o)unty's six-bird limit or in danger of landlordly censure thanks to Trashcan Neighbor, who has our landlord on speed-dial, over a rooster.
* The new job continues to be good! It's slightly less money than "The Ritz," but MUCH less physically demanding, and a much friendlier environment. I actually like some of my co-workers! The kitchen staff fills scrap bags for my animals! Management appreciates me, and tells me so on the regular! The hours are less favorable in that I now mostly work evenings (at "The Ritz" I mostly worked mornings), but evenings at The Ritzier are where the money is, so I'm okay with it.
* The only thing I really dislike about the new job is that the most expedient route from home to work takes me directly through the neighborhood where I last saw The Narcissist alive; it's a long and unpleasant story but her final shitfit caused there to be a police search for her involving everything up to and including HELICOPTERS, and me, mere days out from not one but TWO abdominal surgeries, being stranded with my kids talking to the police about the old bitch IN THAT NEIGHBORHOOD. It's a nice neighborhood (another plus to the new job is that I don't have to drive through any shady areas of town where I feel compelled to lock the doors of the MFA Minivan), but puts me in a funky frame of mind that's not the best way to start a workday. Taking an alternate route only adds about two minutes to the commute but feels like admitting defeat, or at least it did...the past few days I've given myself permission to just go ahead and take the long way; I rationalize it by telling myself that highway miles are easier on a vehicle and more fuel-efficient. I think I'm going to give myself permission to take the highway from now on.
* The XY is spiraling down into utter douchebaggery of late; he hasn't taken his visitation since he paid the child support late earlier this month except for one dinner visit where he picked the boys up two and a half hours late and returned them half an hour early, and the boys reported that they spent most of that abbreviated visit at Home Depot running errands with him. I hate that guy extra-much right now.
* The new bees are doing well! I still haven't done a hive inspection since installing the package, but saw a drone come out of the hive yesterday. Bees only make drones when the colony is doing well (drones don't bring IN any food or help the hive in any way and are a drain on the hive's reserves--they only make drones to send their genetics out into the world when they feel they can spare the resources), so I was pleased.
* Quote of the YEAR: "I'm buying a duck and making rabbit and duck confit out of Iden on a co-worker's recommendation, because if a guy named Jimbo with a Jesus tattoo on his neck doesn't know how to cook a rabbit I have lost all faith in The South." Jimbo did not steer us wrong; Iden was delicious.
* How are all of YOU?