HemmoriodBaboonAss Guess who’s back? Loyd, Loyd, the Hemmoroid! Yes, my hemmoroid is back once again! Great, that’s all I need, on top of everything else. I can feel it now when I wipe my ass as it sticks out the end like a little triangle, like the end of the tip of that Italian bun I like, only it hurts now every time I wipe. Oh, shit…..alternating constipation and diarrhrea….and now this? Plus my constant daily stomach and abdomenal pain…..what next?

The medical marijuana suppliers also phoned me about my paperwork for my license re-newal; everything is finally now all in order; a week or so left until it runs out; they received the re-newed prescription from the doctor and all my paperwork but they said my digital signature I sent them online wasn’t valid because I had to sign using the mouse on my computer and, well, let me tell you about that….. in any case, they had to call me instead and ask my name, birthdate,and address instead of the signature to verify it was still me and that I still have the same address, blah, blah,blah

So, what happened was I had to sign a document online(and then e-mail to them) using the computer mouse,which,of course, I have no idea how to do or how to even use. For me, a computer mouse is just used for scrolling up and  down and clicking, not for writing……really?…. WTF…. and my hubby….in-between laughs….showed me how to do it….but the problem for me is, not only do I not know how to do it, I’m also left-handed and write with my left hand…..but the computer mouse is situated on the right side of my computer and that’s how I’ve learned to operate it, using my right hand, not my left( just like how I learned to play guitar and use scissors right-handed; growing up in a right-handed world you just sort of have to adapt but I write and brush my teeth and eat, for example, with my left) so there lies the problem: how do I do a signature, using a mouse I have no idea how to write with in the first place, using my non-dominant hand? Now, normally, being left-handed, I can use my right hand for both printing and writing, although it’s sloppier and takes much longer but it can be done, but that’s using a pen, not a computer mouse which I have no idea how to write script with using any hand……so my “signature” ended up looking like a bunch of tangled worms, or like I’d had a stroke , or something a 2 year old would have scribbled. I don’t even want to know how much they must have died laughing when they saw it…..


My mother also snickered to me when I was saying how it hurts me the kids all hate me, respect has to be earned! and I reminded her, Yes, it does! just letting her know the reason why I feel the way I do about her, too. We used to get along well before actually, before I had kids and then she just took over and over-stepped boundaries with my kids, over-ruled and undermined me , vetoed me and sabotaged my discipline with my kids and turned them against me, like the Good Cop/Bad Cop routine; I was the Bad Cop because I had rules and punishments and she fashioned herself into the Good Cop that they’d run to and she’d soothe them and tell them how “mean” I was,and how “unfair” I was being,and she’d over-rule it, and they’d go to her to get out of punishments, chores, rules, etc. and before long we’re battling for control and she bribes the kids with money and treats, buying their affection and turning them against me. It almost seems as if she turned it into some sort of “contest” where she had to get the kids over on to her “side”, to get them to love her more than me, to get them away from me and take them for herself, where she had to have the control and I just got shoved aside.She also didn’t seem happy when they loved me(when they were younger) and wasn’t satisfied until they stopped, like she doesn’t want anyone to love me, just because she doesn’t.It’s just all so f*cked up and weird.

I was also wondering as well when you die and you’re first aware that you’ve died how you react to this news and this new unknown adventure that awaits you: for me, for instance, I look forward to it like I how I was on my first cruise; eager, excited, looking forward to the adventure  and can hardly wait, jumping in eagerly with both feet, actually, head-first, and not like how I was starting my first day of school, where I clung to my aunt’s legs and hid fearfully behind her( and I didn’t even like her; she was my mean aunt) crying, not wanting her to leave me there, not wanting to stay, dreading, terrified,and feeling abandoned and alone. My natural fear reaction is to run and hide, hoping to not be seen, hoping that it will pass by me; for it to just disappear and go away, but I don’t fear dying like that; in fact, it’s my life that I want to run away, disappear, and hide from instead; that I wish would just go away and leave me alone, that I could escape and hide from. I’m rather running away from my life and running towards Heaven, eager for the transition, the fresh start, a new beginning, the chance to be set free.