TGIF?

I wish I could describe to you the lunacy that I am witnessing from my third floor office window. It is 2pm. There is a woman, sitting on the lawn in front of my building. She is sitting in a rocking chair, reading a romance novel and sipping tea. On the TV tray next to here is her lunch. But she is not alone—no, for the number of individuals in chairs assembling themselves strategically across the quad is growing exponentially as I write. Can you guess when the football game starts?

TOMORROW. At 6:00pm.

I admit a complete lack of understanding of this cultural phenomenon. I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t want to know. Upon walking in to the college, the Associate Dean asked (incredulously) why I wasn’t wearing my Univ. of X t-shirt. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I don’t own one and most likely would not wear one even if someone bought it for me. Perhaps if someone paid me I would consider it—and now that I think about it, perhaps I could pitch this as part of a new merit raise incentive!

Yes, I am a bit grouchy. It is now 2:23pm and I will have to leave in a little over an hour. The amount of work facing me this weekend boggles my mind even more than the antics of the species of pigskinickus tailgaterus outside my window. So what do you (I) do in this hour? I’m at a loss, frankly. I suppose it would be a good idea to get some work done but what? I feel like I can’t accomplish anything important in an hour. Not including this blog entry.

I took my first dose of Concerta this morning. It’s an adult ADD medication and I’m a little disappointed. I’m supposed to feel different a few hours after taking it, but I really don’t think it’s had an effect on me. The prescription insert says that many people need to have their dosage adjusted higher to see results, so I guess I’d fall into that category. At the same time I filled the prescription, I also turned in my scrip for Lexapro, an antidepressant. I came to the drive thru to pick that up and the clerk said cheerfully “Okay that will be 73.55.” Just a little bit dumbfounded, I told him that I’d have to come back later to pick it up.

I’m so cheap. Really. As I drove off, I thought to myself “Damn. I don’ t think I’m THAT depressed.” So, this morning I called my psychiatrist’s office to see if I could get the “generic alternative” to Lexapro—it’s cheaper and the copay is only 15.00 as opposed to 50.00 for Lexapro. I was told that the psychiatrist doesn’t change prescriptions over the phone and that I would have to make an appointment—of course, that counts as “seeing him.” Which means MORE money. Fuck!

Who would have thought that being happier could be so expensive.

Hold the press. Four black Adonis’s (Adoni?) just jogged by wearing nothing but Univ. of X shorts and their running shoes.

Maybe I could get used to tailgate Fridays after all.