Category Archives: Personal

Depression and Having a Baby

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So I’ve been struggling again. Badly. I haven’t been to work since week before last.

I have mentioned previously that Simon and I are trying to have a baby. We made the decision last night to forget that in order for me to be on meds and living normally.

Then I saw my GP today. She disagrees with this. She thinks I can control the depression and have a baby. I am back on prozac (first med I ever took for this!) for at least the next month, so conception is on hold for at least that long, as prozac + baby = bad bad baby.

It has been a really tough couple of days. Tears, personal recriminations, guilt, etc etc etc. Simon has been, as always, a rock. Saying over and over again, “I want you to be well. It is the most important thing.”

And I know, intellectually, that he is right.  That is the most important thing.  But I so badly want a baby.  And to be healthy.

I hope I can truly have both.

Okay, Before One More Person Asks Me…

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Yes, I have to fill out a US Tax Return.  No, I do not have to pay any US Taxes.  I do not make enough money, thank god.

I basically have to fill out this one form that says ‘this is how much I make a year in US Dollars, based on an average of the exchange rate over the last 12 months.’  Then I have to fill out another part of that form that says ‘this is how many days I was in the US on business last year.’  Then I have to fill out a 1040 (not a 1040a, an actual full 1040) with nothing but zeros, sign it, send it to the States and VIOLA, done for another year.

My deadline is the same as everyone else’s, April 15.  I will be filling out all of those zeros this week (it takes about 10 minutes) and getting it into the post.  Has to be postmarked April 15.  Doesn’t have to be there by then.

Apparently if I ever *do* make enough money here to need to pay taxes there, I will need to higher an expert on this sort of thing because apparently it is very complicated.  As of right now, I send what I think is the right form to my US accountant, who I, very sweetly, call ‘daddy’, via email and he looks it over and says ‘yup, that’s it’ or ‘nope, try this one’.

I think I will link back to this post every year.  That way I never have to answer this question again.  Right?

Well, I’ve Been Trying to Update

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But we’ve been having technical problems all weekend with the ‘net.  Some sites were available, some were not.  This one was not.

It was some weird Virgin Media thing.  Their ‘engineers were working on the problem’ all freakin’ weekend.

So I spent the weekend putting together flat pack furniture.  Still have two bookcases to go.  But the wall unit in the front room is done.  And half empty.  I need to go buy some more stuff. 😉

Nothing much else to write about.  Been a quiet couple of days.

So I Was Out Shopping Yesterday

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Since I took yesterday and today off.  Yesterday was so I could wait for our landlord to do their quarterly ‘inspection.’  Basically I stood there while some chick from their office wandered around.  We have no idea exactly what they were looking for.  But I guess we passed.

So then I went shopping.  I popped over and picked up the two pairs of boots I just had resoled.  They both now look brand new.  Then I wandered through House of Fraser.  Always up for a little retail therapy, I wandered into their lingerie section.  They have some beautiful things.  Only I didn’t buy any of them.  Why? Because I cannot bring myself to spend £50 on just a bra, when I can get basically the same bra and matching  pants for about £32 at Marks and Spencer.  Just crazy prices.

So I left House of Big Spending and went over to M&S.  And got two sets for…£32.  I really can’t see House of Fraser making it in this town.

Today I had to stay home and wait for our Argos delivery.  Which has now arrived.  Four more bookcases and 3 cubes.  The cubes go together to make a display/storage cabinet for the dining area of the front room.  And with four bookcases, Simon and I will actually have room for not only the books we own, but more books to buy!

So, the hope is to have everything but together and then filled with stuff by Sunday night.  And then, finally, we’ll be unpacked.

Who wants to come to the house warming party?

Well, I Wouldn’t Call it Bad Customer Service

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But it sure is annoying.

You see, we have several bookcases and a display case being delivered tomorrow by Argos.  Between 7am and 6pm.  So I called to see if I could get a smaller delivery window.  Say, 7 – 12 or something.  Nope, can’t be done.  They have no way of knowing what time the things will be delivered.

I wouldn’t exactly call this *bad* customer service.  But it certainly isn’t good customer service.

How hard could it be to give me a smaller window? They must know, at this point on the day before, what else is scheduled for delivery in Belfast tomorrow.  So why can’t they narrow it down for me?

When we purchased our washer/dryer, I was given about the same delivery time. But I was also given a number to call the day before to get it narrowed down.  So Curry’s for the win on that one.

I am going to be home all day, regardless.  But now I won’t be able to do *anything* without worrying about missing the delivery.  Not even pee.  So thank god for cordless phones, I guess.

But, really, Argos, you should try and narrow it down for people.  It would be very helpful.

The Schizophrenic Lift

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So, the lift in our building has mental issues.

It has one of those mechanical voices to tell you what floor you are on.  No problem, right? Wrong.

The day we moved in it called our floor, the 6th, the 2nd Sub-Basement.  There isn’t even one sub-basement in our building, never mind two.

Then, on occasion, it announces the third floor, as you ride past it.  Not when stopping at it, just to note that it is there, I guess.

Oh, and it always says going down.  Even when you are at the basement.

I really hope there are no sight impaired people in our building.  Cuz they would never get the right floor.

Things I Don’t Like About the New Flat…

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Nothing is perfect, right? So what don’t I like about our new flat?

The bathroom floor in the ensuite is blue. So no matter how often I mop/sweep it, it never looks clean to me. One dropped spot of water (and really, how do you get out of the shower and not drip water on the floor?) and you can see it against the blue after it dries.

Our kitchen sink is even shallower than the old one. I didn’t think that was even possible. It is a bit wider, but not deep enough at all.

On the one hand I adore our bare floors. I have always liked the hardwood floor look. But it needs constant attention, whether sweeping or hoovering. That I don’t like.

The land lord keeps forgetting to notify us about the change of the code on the front entrance door. Haven’t gotten one yet for tomorrow. Should be fun getting into the building tomorrow.

Black kitchen floor. See blue bathroom floor above.

So, overall I adore this place. Its just little things that get to me.

Why?

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I often ask myself why? Not ‘why is the sky blue’ or ‘why is the ocean salty’ as these have scientific answers.

No, I ask myself, why is talking about sex with your children embarrassing? Why is it ‘those’ parts of the body that are ‘private’? Why do some people hate other people just because of their skin/beliefs/way of life?

I once read a short story, the name of which escapes…hang on, internet, google…let me go look…don’t go away…never mind, can’t find it…anyway, in the short story sex, any sex, was open and public. Thoughts and ideas, however, were private. The story is set in a classroom, during what I guess could be called Thought Ed (like SexEd, get it?) and there is a girl expounding on the idea that perhaps in a parallel world, sex is private and thoughts are public. The teacher kisses her to get her to be quiet.

So what skews our world, our part of the multiverse (tm RAH), to sex being private and thoughts being public? You can’t just say, ‘The Bible’, and be done with it, since The Bible, meaning the Old and New Testaments, isn’t used every where in our world. But you certainly won’t find a teacher kissing a student to shut them up in our world…or if you know of a place, send me the address, k?

So that leads to my third ‘why’ above. Why be mean/hate/kill someone if they believe different from you? What does that prove? That you’re right and they’re wrong? That you have a bigger gun?

Getting back to RAH…oh, sorry, Robert A Heinlein, for the non-sci fi geeks in the audience…there is a scene in Stranger in a Strange Land  (and read the unedited version if you haven’t yet) where Mike, the Man from Mars, is trying to understand how every religion on earth can honestly believe that their god is the true god and all of the rest are false.  This is not possible, to his logical, Martian raised mind.  On Mars, according to Mike (and RAH, obviously) there is one religion.  The tenet?  Thou Art God.  You, Me, Him, Her.  All.  Apparently it works out much neater if you can say it in Martian.  Really need to find time to learn Martian.

Anyway, while I don’t think everyone can be god, cuz, by definition, aren’t gods omnipotent and omniscient?  And, ya know, human here, but I do think that all gods are true gods.  If you believe, then your god is true.

And who does it hurt if people believe this? Is my god so weak that your god makes him weaker?

So…why?

This Post Will Probably Piss Some People Off

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But I am going to write it anyway.

On the bus yesterday there was a child, about 6 – 8 years old, who kept saying “Daddy, daddy, look daddy, look at that daddy, what’s that daddy” over and over and over again, as loud as possible. Based on the way he was talking, he was certainly old enough to be told to use his inside voice. His daddy just let him be loud.

I have posted about this child over on Modern Etiquette and Manners, the Etiquette forum I help moderate, and have gotten 2 responses that chaff my hide (heh, I think I’ve been reading Confessions of a Pioneer Woman too much!). One response was, how do you know the child isn’t impaired. The other one was perhaps he was younger then he appeared.

Let’s take these one at a time; even impaired children need to learn how to act in public. Yelling in public is not acceptable (unless it is a yelling place, such as a sports venue) by anyone. It disturbs others. It hurts people’s ears. It is rude. Even an impaired child needs to learn this if he (note: I am using he as it is easier than he/she) is ever going to get along in society. And if he can’t learn this? Perhaps he shouldn’t be in society. A good friend of mine has 1 child with aspergers and two others with at least ADD (they are too young to test further at the moment) and yet all three of them know what is appropriate behavior in public. And they are impaired.

Let’s not also forget that, technically, I am impaired. I have a real, diagnosed mental illness that makes me freak a bit in public at times. But do I let my freaking effect those around me? I do not. Why not? Because I have been taught how to act in public by my parents.

As to looking older than he is; if he can speak as well as this child was speaking, there was no way he was much younger than he appeared. And even if he is, I think any child over the age of about 2 can be told to use their inside voice. I know my nieces have been being told that for at least that long. And they did learn to do so. How? Repetition. Telling them over and over, when they yelled, to use their inside voice. It can be done with a young child. I’ve seen it first hand.

I can here the critics now ‘but you have no children Robyn, how the hell would you know?’ I don’t have to have children to be able to tell when a child is not being parented. All I have to do is go out into the world and observe behavior that would have gotten me hauled home, my mother to embarrassed to continue to do what she is doing.

And I don’t need to be a parent to know that screaming at the top of your lungs on the bus is not appropriate behavior. Ever.

Happy Birthday Simon!

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Today is my husband’s birthday.  He’s 34.  I robbed the cradle.

I would tell you what I got him, only we’re in Derry and his gift is in Belfast and he might read this before we get home.  He’ll like it, though!

Also, today is Alyson Hannigan’s birthday.  She is also 34.  My husband likes this, that he shares a birthday with Alyson Hannigan, I mean.  I think mostly because then he can put this post at Whendonesque.  He’s on staff over there.

And there you go, love.  A birthday wish and TWO links to Whedonesque.  How’s that for a birthday present?