Thursday, February 21, 2013


• My poor little Sophie. She always seems to be the kid that no one wants to play with. She couldn't even get a bunny to play with her yesterday. A bunny that's bigger than she is. Soph was wagging her tail with lots of vigor. She was even letting the bunny sniff her bum. But when my puppy wanted to do some bum-sniffing of her own? Bunny wasn't down. Bunny hid behind furniture to avoid tiny tail-wagging Soph. All my little girl wants is to be a friend. But ain't nobunny havin' it.

• I got home from work yesterday to discover that the maid service hadn't been there yet. Admittedly, I showed up early, but like that mattered. I had myself a little 30-year-old temper tantrum and stomped out of the house. I don't have first-world problems; I am a first-world problem. 

• I know this'll seem like it's coming from a biased source—and it is; let's be clear on that—but you should know that generic drugs aren't the same as the branded versions. When a generic drug molecule is getting approved for market, it only has to prove 80-120% bioequivalence with the branded product. Every body is different and this body feels a significant difference between branded and generic Wellbutrin XL. When I take the generic product, side effects outweigh the benefits of taking it at all. Depression or debilitating dizziness? I just might take the depression. But with GSK's branded version, years of experience with the drug tell me that I'll be able to get out of bed and stand upright.

• Wedges are great shoes for accentuating my cankles.

• I have stretchy hamstrings, but it's actually my hips that are extra gooey. Means I have to be careful and not push 'em too far. It's easy for me to go too deep into a hip-heavy yoga pose. If I'm not paying close attention to how my hips are feeling as I go into a posture, they will bitch at me for the next three days. I musta been a bad girl recently 'cause my sacroiliac joint is doing what it's done so much before—it's screaming at me. I keep reaching back to rub or pound on my upper left butt cheek. It's super classy. Scripture says to not run faster than you have strength. Well, since I avoid running whenever possible—run for a flight? Ha. I'd rather just miss it—I'll amend the instruction to advise that I'd be wise to not bend deeper than I've developed strength enough to support myself.

Drug reps often get talked about in waiting rooms while we are just sitting there minding everyone else's business. People think they're being quiet; oh, but stage-whispering isn't actually quiet. "Look at her shoes! How do you think she walks in those?" Yesterday I was standing at a front-desk window and a woman and her elderly mother started talking about me. (How could I be sure it was me they were talking about? Well, they were silent until I was standing in their sightline, and I was the only other person in the room.) "Look at her—do you remember when you were that thin?" "It was so long ago." "Jamie is that skinny, but of course people that thin are always on drugs." HEY, I CAN HEAR YOU! (But my inflated sense of vanity and history of laxative abuse thank you for the "compliment.")

• I avoid wearing glasses in public. But when my real specs are actually this cute, it's a crying shame no one gets to see me—


Rabid said...

Thanks to you I've started visiting the google reader again. Thanks to you! Your blog is my favorite part of the innernet.

Ryan said...

I blame Three's Company (reruns) which taught us that conversations beyond four feet* are completely inaudible.

How one remains net svelte despite such thick skin remains a mystery.

*6" if on the other side of a kitchen door