I knew I was forgetting something.

Today’s been an adventure. An expensive one, sadly.

See, like I said yesterday, everyone in this apartment is sick. That means there was nobody to drive me to therapy today and that meant (sigh) spending $30 on cabs ($15 each way) that I would rather have kept.

I wonder if I could get the province to pay next time. I mean, this was a legit medical transport cost. I am way too sick and it is way too wet and cold for me to take the bus.

Even walking home from 7-11 was probably pushing it.

They would probably just tell me to take the handyDART, otherwise known as the short bus for disabled people, and my disability prevents me from having the mental resources to even imagine figuring out how to do that.

Yes, that’s right, I am too disabled for the short bus. You heard it here first.

So cab there, then cab to the 7-11 a few blocks away, my usual Thursday shopping, then schlepping the stuff back home three blocks.

I could/should/might have gotten the cab to wait and had him drive me to my pharmacy to get my freaking pills after I was done my 7-11 shopping done, but I was already pushing my social anxiety pretty hard so I found i could not make myself spit out the damned words to make that happen.

I struggle every day.

By the way, unpaid endorsement time, 7-11’s new crinkle cut fries are quite good. Not the best I have ever had (I miss you, Mister Sport) but up there.

Therapy didn’t start till 1 pm (appointment, as always, was for 12:45 pm) but otherwise went quite well. I talked to him about my problems getting a new glucometer and directly asked him for help getting it done, which really, really took a lot out of me and I am super proud of myself for doing it.

We talked about it and he tried a few things then suggested I asked my pharmacist about it, which totally makes sense and seems obvious in retrospect.

I mean, he’d know what meters and/or strips are covered by my medical plan, right? Probably know better than anyone else.

But the thing is, sure that seems obvious now. But it was never an intellectual issue in the first place. What I really needed was someone to hold my hand and talk me through the problem so I could work through the mental block keeping me from seeing the in retrospect obvious solution to my problem.

So when I go to get the damned sleeping pills, I will also ask about glucometers.

The session was over half over when he said, “You know what I can’t believe we haven’t even mentioned yet?”.

And of course, I instantly knew. “My father?”. Yup.

Because the thing is, I’ve barely thought about him at all in the last week. That might seem weird but it’s just me dealing with him the same way I did before he died : by not thinking about him.

And leaving all that rage and hate and disappointment and resentment frozen and shoved behind a curtain and left to fester and rot in a slow motion glacial way.

Just like everything else I’ve quick-frozen and shoved into the background of my mind over the years. And that’s…. damned near everything.

Wish I could just shut the power off and leave town.

Let the flood happen without me.

But that wouldn’t be very responsible of me, would it?

More after the break.

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My Kind of Music (Article)

Came across this completely awesome music listicle.

It’s about the heaviest songs from the era before Black Sabbath came along and more or less invented heavy metal, and I have listened to all 20 songs listed there, and liked around two thirds of them enough to download them.

Starting with this infamous track from the Beatles which I had heard of but never heard until I read the article :

And I can see why now. Holy shit, that’s a trip. One I am loving the shit out of for how dark and evil and insane it sounds, but still, a trip.

Makes me realize that I only know two versions of the Beatles : Mop Top Boy Band Beatles, and Psychedelia Beatlemania Beatles.

But there’s the Rubber Soul and Revolver Beatles, and I dunno them at all.

Apparently, they got into some really dark shit. Far fuckin’ out man. I can see how music like this scared the hell out of the squares and made them think the hippies were going to burn the world down any minute now.

This also changed how I saw the band involved :

It’s like the music itself is thrashing around in a rubber room, trying to get out.

So obviously, I love it. I’ve been into sick and twisted music since Grade 6, especially when it seems to mirror my own chaotic mental state, and so to discover all these awesome “this is the point in the movie where the acid trip turns bad” kinds of music from before my time really blows my mind.

I mean, this is the sort of music the serial killers and other very bad dudes listen to in order to indicate how fucked up they are in movies.

My buds in Pink Floyd got into it to :

Not bad, but pretty derivative. If I want to go darkly insane with Pink Floyd, I much prefer something like this :

But by far, my fave acquisition is this magnificent audible nightmare :

That’s some spooky ass shit, and I love it.

Is it possible for one’s taste in music to become more……. evil?

And just to steal that last little bit of my heart, the article ends with this :

A song I have adored for many, many years. Bonus : now I know the lyrics.

All this makes me want to make my own annihilistic music.

Now where’d I leave my talent…..

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.