Remember last week when I mentioned that only my grandfather and one of his brothers was left on that side of the family? Well, that is no longer the case: his final brother passed away over the weekend. My grandfather is now the only one left.
Also in the Family's Bad News File, it appears that my grandmother (the one who's 89th birthday we're celebrating this weekend) has glaucoma. I thought she just had cataracts, which is bad, yes, isn't as bad as glaucoma. Well, she has cataracts. And she has glaucoma. She has both.
Pardon my language, but, shit. shitshitshit.
Top all this bad news off with my being premenstral, gaining at least ten pounds in the last week, and picking right now to stop taking my Zoloft, and it makes for a very depressed Hezer. Gah! I try not to think about it too much, and that helps for about five minutes.
Today I was making one of my usual runs to court when the clerk - who is one of my favourites - told me she was leaving the desk to become a judge's secretary, and made a point of saying how much she enjoyed working with me, how easy I was to deal with, blah, blah, blah. Lord Almighty, but I nearly burst into tears! She's a joy to deal with herself - very accomodating, goes the extra mile whereas many of the other clerks won't even give you an inch, blah, blah, blah. We said our goodbyes, and I really, seriously had to force myself to not cry as I walked back to my car. It's silly, I know. Sure, I'll miss her, but I'm thrilled she's off to a better job. It's just my depressed, hyper-hormonal self, I know. Hopefully this weekend will be better.
Also in the Family's Bad News File, it appears that my grandmother (the one who's 89th birthday we're celebrating this weekend) has glaucoma. I thought she just had cataracts, which is bad, yes, isn't as bad as glaucoma. Well, she has cataracts. And she has glaucoma. She has both.
Pardon my language, but, shit. shitshitshit.
Top all this bad news off with my being premenstral, gaining at least ten pounds in the last week, and picking right now to stop taking my Zoloft, and it makes for a very depressed Hezer. Gah! I try not to think about it too much, and that helps for about five minutes.
Today I was making one of my usual runs to court when the clerk - who is one of my favourites - told me she was leaving the desk to become a judge's secretary, and made a point of saying how much she enjoyed working with me, how easy I was to deal with, blah, blah, blah. Lord Almighty, but I nearly burst into tears! She's a joy to deal with herself - very accomodating, goes the extra mile whereas many of the other clerks won't even give you an inch, blah, blah, blah. We said our goodbyes, and I really, seriously had to force myself to not cry as I walked back to my car. It's silly, I know. Sure, I'll miss her, but I'm thrilled she's off to a better job. It's just my depressed, hyper-hormonal self, I know. Hopefully this weekend will be better.
