karaokegal (karaokegal) wrote,
karaokegal
karaokegal

Oh all right....I'm a fucking idiot

Alzheimers, Brain tumor, low blood sugar, or just being a fucking idiot? You tell me.



So you may remember there was a bit of drama last week regarding my not taking the last few days of my birth control pills, and the messy mess that ensued as a result.

You'd think that I would make it my utmost priority to get the pills right this month. And I thought I had. Started my new pill pack right on schedule last Sunday morning, and have been taking them every day before I leave for the gym or work, depending on how early I can haul my ass out the door.

Today as I was taking my pill, I happened to actually LOOK at the pill pack, which is in a circle and realize that instead of taking the pill I should have on Sunday, I'd started at the opposite end of the circle. In other words I've been taking the wrong dosage of hormone for the last four days.

Aside from the obvious worry----OMG, I COULD GET PREGNANT!!!!!, my biggest concern is HOW BIG OF A FUCKING IDIOT DO I HAVE TO BE TO PULL THIS ONE OFF?????!!!!!!!!

I am now literally "idiot who doesn't know how to use birth control."

I'm off caffeine and sugar so I can't blame it on that, except I get really bad fuzzy brain if I haven't eaten for awhile. That thing where you can't even get to your own memories to figure out where something might be...and you just feel like you're paralyzed.

That thing I went through on Tuesday when I realized that I had lost/misplaced yet another notebook with a considerable amount of writing toward the fic I was trying to finish. Last time I remember having it is on the BART on Tuesday because I know I was writing in it and after that...blank. Nothing. Nada. Can't remember if I put it in a pocketbook or the gym bag...and it's not in any of them. Not at the office. Not turned in at the gym. POOF! Gone!

I guess I'm going to have to give up my paper habit once and for all if my brain cells are so decayed that I can't hold on to a fucking notebook.

And then at the end of the day yesterday, I got a call and the client was telling his admin that when he got to the airport, they told him he wasn't even waitlisted for an upgrade. I'd documented the record that he was waitlisted, but I honestly couldn't remember whether I'd done it or not, so I had all night to obsess about that one too.

1. I called my doctor this morning. She suggests I finish the week of pills I'm currently taking and then get a new pill pack and take that week again and go forward from there. As long as there's some hormone in my system, I should be ok.

2. I called United. I did put the client on the waitlist. Either the client misunderstood the person at the airport or some skanky bitch lied to get the irate client out of her face.

3. The notebook is still MIA, but I was able to re-create the writing and get the story finished.
Tags: journal, tmi, whining, work, writing
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