This Is My Brain On Drugs
So if you've read this blog for any length of time you'll know about my long and depressing health history, and that I've had frequent migraines since my teen years. Periodically, I get these intractable headaches that don't go away for months, and I've had one since late March. Basically I have a headache at some point of almost every day, with a handful of consecutive pain-free days to write home about. I consider this a truly boring topic, and do not discuss it much because when I do, people either feel sorry for me (which is awkward, and there's a fine line between compassion and pity) or they tell me stories about the migraines of their friend/husband/cousin, or they ask if I have tried one of the billion things (Imitrex, biofeedback, tea, cold compresses) that I promise you I have. I know people are trying to be helpful, but well-meaning input gets very, very old.
Anyway. After three courses of steroids and many tests and appointments (and much neurological complexity that I will spare you, and no, I do not have a brain tumor), my specialist (who is both a neurologist and a headache guru) has come up with a cocktail of new drugs. One of them costs $10
per pill (and works about as well as the old one, which costs "only" $6 per pill - and this is the
co-payment, people, for Harvard Fucking Pilgrim insurance, not some no-frills health plan).
But the truly weird thing? Said drug, along with the two other medications, has a lovely array of vague side effects, and at any given moment I have no idea how I feel. I got home from work today and did not feel like going to the gym and wondered if that is just run-of-the-mill laziness or drug-induced depression and/or lethargy and/or drowsiness? Earlier I was edgy - was this straight-up work drama, or was it related to the other drug which can cause anxiety? Is my headache better or worse than it was last week? Is the posh drug kicking in? And appetite? Hello? Are you lost yet? Or am I just too lazy to make dinner? And finally: what about that typo earlier? Am I experiencing "mental cloudiness"?
Posted by Dori at 7:50 PM
Courthouse Rock
So I was assigned to standby jury duty, and was so cocksure that I
wouldn't have jury duty, in that completely baseless and irrational way that some pregnant women are
sure they aren't carrying a child of a particular sex, when of course they are. Of course, when I called the hotline (1-800-THE-JURY, no joke) to confirm my status, I was told to get my ass to the courthouse at 8:15 a.m.
I took a cab to jury duty, because it was held in a courthouse at the vertex of several highways so frightening that just the idea of driving on any one of them made me shudder. I felt vindicated later on, when the juror wrangler (or whatever the official term is) urged everyone to stay within walking distance, "because if you get in your car you will get on one of several confusing and poorly marked highways and you could end up in Chelsea, Revere, or somewhere else very far away."
The last time I had jury duty was in a huge scary courthouse with an adjacent jail, and the jurors were shepherded around and nobody talked to each other. This time there were maybe 18 people (two named Marie) in the jury pool, and we all sat in this little windowless room and it was like
The Breakfast Club. One woman talked about how she'd never be chosen for duty because she'd been arrested several times. Another guy, a 20-year-old college student, discussed how his lack of summer job and the rising cost of gas is cramping his social life; he has recently attended two parties at which the beer to person ratio was 20:1, and that the cost of the beer and its transportation is becoming a hardship. One chick just finished her master's in journalism and writes art reviews for a local arts magazine; she had lots of piercings and one of the Maries joked about how surprising it was that she made it through "security" (a woman at the front door with a hand-held the metal detector). We got a break and all walked to Dunkin' Donuts in a group.
We watched a sappy movie about the justice system in which a female judge and a very diverse group of lawyers depicted how progressive the makers of the film, and the Attorney General's Office, are (props to them - maybe they could work on acting now that they've nailed diversity). We all guffawed. Then at 10:30 the young judge (a real live woman of color) came down to the windowless holding tank where we waited and dismissed us, thanking us for being there and performing our civic duties.
Nicely done.
Posted by Dori at 9:57 AM
My Lady Friends
So last night I had the rare pleasure of hanging out with several members of my former posse (who have defected to New Orleans and suburbia, respectively), and some other friends. I cannot tell you how awesome this was. Along with with their boyz, K.,
Robyn, and I had dinner and discussed the possibility of ordering a Tofu Square in honor of
Melinda (whose love of turkey pot pies does not preclude her love for these). Melinda would have been there, too, had she not defected to the Midwest. I miss said posse in a big way. In the way that Carrie does, in one of the last SATC episodes. Remember that scene after she moves to Paris, and it sucks, and she walks by this coffee shop and through the window she sees a group of French Samantha-Miranda-Charlotte look-alikes, all nodding and laughing together? I see scenes like that, and experience wistful feelings like that, all the time. I see Robyn a fair amount, and we all keep in touch, but it's just not the same.
Last night, after dinner, we ended up convening outside a cafe, and I went inside to use the bathroom, and then I came out and everyone was assembled outside and I had this moment of pure happiness, seeing them all (well, sans Melinda, but still) together in one place, and I said
hi, you guys, savoring the words, because how often do I get to say that?
My mom says maybe I will get a new posse. Maybe my work BFFs (the beloved chicks in my immediate office plus the Admissions Girls minus the
Mean Admissions Girl) will get together more regularly and sit on blankets together on the Fourth of July. And watch the equivalent of gymnastics and
American Idol together (Robyn and Melinda have even done this virtually, on g-chat). Maybe we will talk about race and whether it's OK to use the word "ghetto" to describe something of poor quality (Last night, the verdict was no.). Maybe we will talk about negotiating pay raises at work, or debate whether it is ethically different to illegally download music vs. illegally watch TV online.
But somehow I just can't imagine it. Maybe work BFFs can morph in to BFF 2.0s (because dude, I'll always have the 1.0s). I am blessed to have lots of other BFFs in my life - amazing women (and a stray guy!) who I really, truly, love. But they're not all friends with each other, and they belong to posses of their own.
I am not sure if it's possible for a posse to evolve at this stage in one's adulthood. I could maybe join one, but do they ever coalesce from scratch?
Posted by Dori at 5:29 PM
Pants on Fire
Not "I misspoke" or "I may have misrepresented some facts." I just lied. One of my sweetest co-workers asked me if I have a blog. I've spoken many times about my love of writing and today she said, "I'm surprised you don't have a blog." (She has one in which she primarily posts gorgeous photos of her gorgeous baby.)
I murmured that I enjoy reading and posting on other people's blogs.
"Have you ever thought about starting one yourself?" she asked.
I muttered yes, mentioned concerns about privacy, said they deterred me, and changed the subject.
And then I almost backtracked and told her. I would never write anything bad about aforementioned co-worker, and she is a true friend who knows virtually everything I write about here. But still. She could mention something to another co-worker, unintentionally, and then things could get weird.
It sucks to lie, though, especially to someone so awesome.
Posted by Dori at 10:19 PM
Mean Girl
So one of the extremely cool things about my foster job is my relationship with the Admissions Girls*. These are a batch of women of similar age and mindset, who work down the hall from me and my extremely cool two co-workers. The Admissions Office has a microwave and a fax machine (whereas ours does not), so we visit the Admissions Girls on a fairly regular basis. Also, our office features a well-stocked basket of candy "for the students," so they Admissions Girls pop over to our end of the hall as well. In the name of Cultivating Interdepartmental Relationships, we periodically get together after work. It is super fun.
There is one exception, however. I experience"Elyse" as really mean. On my very first day at my foster job, I asked to use one of their fax cover sheets. I had never met her before and she rolled her eyes and said,
"I don't know why you'd to use those heinous looking things, but help yourself."I was taken aback, but I faxed, then scurried away. A few weeks later, I heard that she was in fact shy and that her Outer Bitch was shielding a warm and vulnerable soul. I was open to that, but then, on several occasions I heard her speak sharply about her boyfriend ("
Why won't he fucking commit? I'm 36. We've been together 6 months. My lease is up. Let's get this goddamned show on the road.") and about her boss
("He's a perverted asshole."). Then, last night, we all went out for drinks. She declared that her drink tasted like "nail polish remover" and wanted it to be comped. "Who's asking the bartender for a refund?" She demanded.
"Who's the Jew here?"And I was all ...
whoa. I know that Elyse herself is Jewish, as she hastened to add. But I, and the other Jewish woman present, was both horrified and taken aback. We may be authorized to mock members of our own tribe, but it should be done in a playful way, not one that is hateful and perpetuates stereotypes.
Then she started hating on the admissions director. Apparently the director was leading a staff retreat and melted down while relaying the fact that her stepson had left for Iraq earlier that week. Said Elyse: "Who does that? It's her
stepson, dude. Not her own kid. And who fucking
cries at a staff retreat? How unprofessional is that?"
At this point, the other Admissions Girls briefly defended the director and changed the subject. It was clear that Elyse had crossed the line of decency. She said some more unkind things about various topics and I have concluded that while her bitterness may stem from some vulnerability, she is still pretty damn mean.
*Department name changed to protect privacy
Posted by Dori at 8:51 PM
You Take the Good, You Take the Bad, You Take The Rest And There You Have The Facts of Life
The Good:
Another really cool thing that has just happened is that, after months and months of talking about it, my co-worker finally ordered a coffee maker for our office. Until now, one of us has made at least one daily run to procure either overpriced coffee
($3.50 for a small latte!) or affordable coffee ($1.84 for brown water). Again and again, we discussed how much money and time we are wasting on this effort, and how we should really invest in an office coffee maker. Many, many discussions ensued about the cost of various models, whether our program budget (in the hundreds of thousands) could cover the cost ($24.99), and whether it made more sense to order a coffee maker online (and pay for shipping) or go to Target and physically buy one.
At some point, this became too annoying to bear, and I went to Target myself, bought the damn thing, and lugged it to work. (And I should mention that it was surprisingly heavy and awkward to haul on the subway). Everyone oohed and aahed at my initiative. But: as soon as we opened it, we noticed a manufacturer’s flaw, and I then had to schlep it back on the subway and make another special trip to return that bad boy. Luckily, I really enjoy going to Target. The upshot: is that we ordered another coffee maker online (with Amazon prime free shipping) and my former-barista-co-worker supplied some kick-ass java and now we can have as much iced or hot coffee as our little hearts (or jonesing neurons) desire. It really does fill me with joy and this week I’ve already reallocated the $17.50 that I was formerly wasting on weekly coffee. I spent it on an extraordinarily overpriced Ethiopian dinner ($16.95).
The Bad:
A much less thing cool thing also happened. Remember how I mentioned
another former temp in our office has achieved permanent status? Which is all great for her but rather hard for me, given that I’m still a contractor and shelling out more than $130 a
week on health care, plus trying hard to be
agile without a job description or title? At the college where I work, all the offices have names on the doors. And today I was actually asked to call Facilities and get them to letter her name on the door. Note that there are
three other permanent staff members who are perfectly equipped to handle such a procedure, but I was chosen to do it. And when I asked my dear and wise friend Banter Boy about whether this is worse than a slap in the face, he sensibly asked if I had ever been slapped in the face. Since I have not (thank God), I am agree that I’m unqualified to draw that kind of comparison. But he agreed that the situation sucks.
The Rest:
Forthcoming.
Posted by Dori at 8:03 AM
Some Upbeat Chatter to Offset Existential Questioning
Today it was 92 degrees, and it's supposed to be similarly hot tomorrow. This fills me with joy. I
love the heat. I'm like an iguana. Naturally cold-blooded (and constantly freezing), I am blissful when I can bask and soak up sun and warmth. This rocks especially right now, because it's still early in the season, and arctic air-conditioning is not yet blasting everywhere. I remain confounded about the fact that in the wintertime, people heat their surroundings to around 71 degrees. Yet in summer, it is deemed acceptable to chill stores and offices and homes to around 60 degrees, even though
everyone is wearing much less clothing.
I am also chuffed because my friends
Robyn,
Melinda, and K. will be convening in New Orleans in July, for our second trans-national reunion. The four of us all used to live within the same area code, but then Robyn moved to suburbia, Melinda got all midwestern on us, and K. had the nerve to apply her brilliant educational psychologist training to the distressed school districts of Louisiana. But whatever. This is going to be awesome. Hopefully at least as awesome as our
first reunion. Apparently it will be infernally hot, but I will be consuming snow balls, which are like Sno-cones but better.
But wait! There's even more good news! A while back, I took out a zillion books from the library (because, by having many options, I don't feel obligated to finish books if I am not feeling them), and three of them disappeared under the seat of my car, and thus I not only never read them (or even remembered I'd taken them out), but never returned them. After many weeks, I got a scary overdue notice from the library. I immediately dropped off the books, but did not inquire about the fine. Today I drove over there and braced myself and expected to shell out around $50. Which I kept reminding myself is still way cheaper than buying books, and also there are worse things than contributing money to the public library, right? And guess what? My fine was only $3!
And finally: I discovered an Ann Taylor outlet nearby, and I bought several cool shirts that don't make me look pregnant and were also affordable.
Yay!
Posted by Dori at 9:17 PM
End-of-the-week Angst
All the students have left for the summer, and the university where I work is deserted. There are no interesting fliers stuck up in the hallways, or random students dropping by. There was lots of fancy excitement surrounding graduation, and I found myself looking longingly at the caps and gowns and wishing that I, too, were newly launching myself into the world.
I am not teaching this summer, so with work being slow, there is even less to do and think about.This leaves me time to worry about where my life is going. Before making the career change from the not-for-profit to academia, my sense of purpose was built-in. I didn’t have to think too much about my role in the world because my day job promoted the Greater Good. In my series of positions at scrappy organizations, I never had delusions that what I did was particularly effective (or even particularly interesting), but I felt secure in the knowledge that I was in some way Making a Contribution. And for many years, in addition to my professional good work, I also did a lot of volunteering. I served on boards and committees and was incredibly busy. I derived great satisfaction from these activities, but I also depended upon them to feel worthy. Over time, I learned to be OK with coming home after work and “just” seeing friends or going to the gym (or
even doing nothing!). After a lot of angst, I let go of many commitments except two: I still work on health care quality issues, and belong to an infrequently-meeting group that promotes women’s mentorship in the Jewish community.
When I left the not-for-profit world, I assured myself that while I was selling out to some extent, I would find other ways to do good. I would get active in new organizations and find new ways to be idealistic. But I left my soul-sucking-but-philanthropic job about a year ago, and so far I haven’t done that. Occasionally, when I’m sitting on the train or walking or spacing out, I feel really disappointed in myself. Through my day job (which is still a foster job), I realize maybe 20% of my energy and brain power. Nurturing my friendships is important to me, but I don’t have a family or partner to take care of, nor do I do creative things like so many of my friends. So what am I doing with my life and what’s the point of having a good heart, an able mind, and a stellar education?
I don’t think I need a life coach or therapy or yoga or a silent retreat. But I don’t know how I’m going to figure this out.
Posted by Dori at 9:54 PM
I'll Have the Clam Creme With Potato Morsels
So my parents live in a small town about two hours away, and I see them maybe every six weeks or so. Usually I visit them on the weekends; on the few occasions when they come to the city, it's just for the day. They arrive in the morning, and we go out to lunch, and perhaps we go to a museum, or browse in some store for a while. They dislike driving in the dark, so they usually leave early.
Because of this, while I have lived in Greater Boston for eight years, I have yet to go out to a fancy city dinner with my parents. This week my dad is in town for a conference, and so he and my mom are here for most of the week. A long time ago I got a gift certificate as a work appreciation thing, and it was to a restaurant about which I was unenthusiastic. So I sold the gift certificate on craigslist (There is a major secondary market for gift cards on there ... I sold it to this older couple who buy cards all the time, and we conducted the transaction in a bank parking lot ...), and have been hoarding the cash ever since. So this confluence of events inspired me to take my parents out to dinner (finally) to
Oleana, which is one of the area's best-known delicious restaurants. And it was meh. My dad was tense and fussy - all he wanted was lamb. My mom's order was good but not amazing. We had two desserts: salted caramel ice cream served over a sesame-cashew cake with roasted pineapple; and a pistachio crepe with poached cherries, pistachio ice cream, and buttermilk semifreddo. I thought both were exquisite, but my mom didn't. While I did not personally cook or choose the dishes we had, I still wanted her to love them.
For tomorrow night, I made reservations at
Radius, which is even more famous (and also much more pretentious - it's the kind of place where the waiters present each dish to you as if it were a celebrity, and they give you a new napkin if you get up to go the the bathroom). I've only been there once, when Banter Boy took me there to celebrate my liberation from my soul-sucking job; It was one of the most memorable meals I've ever had. But now I don't know. It's weird: my mom is as fascinated by food as I am. She watches
Top Chef (and all those shows on The Food Network)
. She reads cookbooks. She entertains constantly. But she was lukewarm about tonight, has already expressed reservations about tomorrow night, so maybe we should call the whole thing off and go eat at some seafood place she spotted near their hotel.
I'm so disappointed. I so rarely get to go out and eat fancy food. But I think eating out with people who are not enjoying or appreciating the meal is decidedly un fun. So if you're in the mood for New England clam chowder, let me know. I'll probably be on the waterfront tomorrow night, with my parents. Maybe we can meet up.
Posted by Dori at 8:18 PM
