Every day is a dream…

Obviously this is just culminating into a space for explanations of my sporadic life failures. (Nothing else motivates me?) And that should probably foreshadow just how positive this won’t be.

So this week I went to the dermatologist–probably the first time in my life that I’ve been to a specialist (unless an orthodontist counts). I don’t have health insurance, either, so it will cost a fucking arm and a leg. Not just a fucking arm and a leg, though, because aside from just having an appointment, I also had to have a biopsy. No clue  how much that is going to cost. It sucks that even after having to pay so much, I ended up not really liking the guy’s vibe. And better yet, I have to go back again in about a week and a half–so I get to shell out even more. This sums up to the fact that I probably won’t be able to buy anyone Christmas gifts this year, which really sucks. As a matter of fact, every single time I manage to save a significant amount of money, it ends up going to things that are completely unenjoyable for me–such as school bills, food, or medical expenses. Almost always with the original intent to buy things or travel.

Anyway, I went to the dermatologist for three reason. Firstly, I had this seriously menacing case of what was and is most likely seborrheic dermatitis, i.e. “real” dandruff. This is not really a surprise since I have eczema in my ears, ergo my skin is overreactive and horrible. I just got some shampoo for that–whoopee. Secondly, I have significant hair loss. Since I’ve had a considerable number of blood lab tests done, and the only thing they’ve found is that I have too much testosterone in my system, this is most likely the only reason for it. (And no, I don’t have a tumor. But otherwise I have no clue why my hormones are irregular) So, since birth control barely did shit for me, I suggested to the dermatologist other things that some women have taken with success. Many of them were men’s medications or things not related to hair loss, such as prostate medication. Dr. Asshole keeps insisting to me that he is not accustomed to giving women these kinds of prescriptions, and that they “are for men,” repeatedly. I try to explain to Dr. Asshole that even if it is FOR MEN, if the medication acts by directly inhibiting the enzyme that produces testosterone, that pretty much fucking makes sense and addresses the exact issue, rather than helping it in some indirect way like birth control, etc. etc. He insists, but it’s for men. Well, you fucking know what? Most medications aren’t even thoroughly tested on women TO BEGIN WITH. So does that mean women shouldn’t be allowed to take anything but birth control to solve every ailment? This isn’t even including the fact that most of them have fewer side effects than birth control. Regardless, since I’m having to go back, he said he’d look into it before I come back. I don’t have high expectations. If another woman (who wrote an article for Marie Claire) can manage to get one of these prescriptions from a Dr., when suffering from the same shit I am, and have success with it, why the fuck can’t I? I’ve been considering writing her.

And lastly–to end the tirade–I had them check on this peculiar spot on my arm that has persisted, unchanged, for around six months. Even though my GP’s kind of neglected it, the dude said it looked kind of suspicious. He suggested to me that it could be cancer, which I’d already realized. How lovely, right? So, they took a biopsy of my arm. First the nurse injected some local anaesthetic, which is a non-issue to me because the ‘pain’ of needles really doesn’t bother me anymore. But then after sitting around for about ten minutes, the doctor came back in to do something akin to punching out a thin hole in my arm. Beforehand I had come to the conclusion that the spot seemed pretty numb, but indeed, it was not numb. Then he sewed it up and injected more anaesthetic. That only lasted about ten minutes.

So, it doesn’t seem like I’ll be going back to school next semester, like I’d hoped. I had picked out all the classes quite early, but every time I checked back registration wasn’t open. So then I idled. I could sign up now, but finding a place to live in a month doesn’t seem realistic. Anyway, with this stupid arm shit, and the remote hope that I could finagle some medication for my hair that would probably initially make it fall out before growing back in, it doesn’t seem like a great idea. I’m thinking about looking into taking online-only classes, to maybe get a few out of the way, but I’m not even sure if that is possible. I’d have to get another loan, which, I’m pretty sure, would require me to take at least 12 hours. But can I even find 12 hours of relevant online classes to take? It’s a dim hope. And then there’s the suspension/probation and whatever regulations will come along with that that I might have to deal with. Life is really looking up these days…

I also picked up my guitar again Friday, after not seriously practicing for over a year. It was a miserable disappointment, really. It’s easy to forget that not only do I have to remember the notes and where the most convenient fingering places are on the fret, but also the alternation between the fingers on my (clumsy?) right hand. Maybe I really should just get that accordion.

Life isn’t so terrible right now, it’s just not good. In actuality, the majority of the “goodness” I’m deriving is probably from any lack of stress, and confrontation, and necessity to confront a lack of self-esteem that I usually counteract with procrastination. And I don’t really get lonely being at home. This doesn’t get rid of things like feelings of failure, depression, and monotony, though.

I also heard my step-father say something very un-PC the other day that I really don’t approve of. It’s not really worth advertising in a public space, but it wasn’t cool.  

Aside from this, nothing really goes on in my life. I guess that’s about all I have to write.