I had to go to the pharmacy today to get a Percocet prescription for mommie dearest. I had a bad night last night, crushing chest pains/anxiety attack and I felt like I was going to throw up, which made me think I was actually having a heart attack because the warning signs are different for men than they are for women, which made the anxiety worse, which made me take an entire xanax and conk out completely. I didn’t wake up this morning so Mr Woolstone, in order to get me up, loudly announced, “well, I guess you two aren’t going to school since your mom isn’t getting up.” 

I burst into tears. 

Because really, no one else can throw some clothes at the boys and pack a lunch? Drop them off five minutes away? No one?

I cried all those five minutes to school, and all the way back. Discovered there’s a reason for all that emotion (monthly!). Chest pains promptly replaced by cramps.

Woolstone comes home for lunch oblivious as to why I feel so horrible and starts an interrogation, whereupon I feel the little tendrils of anxiety start to creep into my chest again before I grabbed Skeeter and started cuddling. (Self medicate!)

Picked up cub 1 from school and start off for the pharmacy and let’s just say I look like hell. A mess. And here I am picking up a prescription for Percocet that isn’t mine.

I’m immediately paranoid. I hope the pharmacist isn’t that mom who I’ve seen for years and smiled at but she never acknowledges my existence. Seriously. Her boys went to the same preschool and now they go to the same elementary school and no matter what she sees right through me. 

Don’t you hate that? I’ve had boyfriends and close friends who sort of did that. My best friend in college used to talk to anyone else at a bar except me. Which, whatever. I don’t like being the center of attention and I’m fine on my own. But the patterned move for both this best friend and the boyfriend? If we were all in a circle talking they would move right in front of me to do a little tete a tete with someone else. Completely blocking me off even though I can assure you, I wasn’t interrupting or doing anything to take attention away from them. Bizarre. It wasn’t at all intentional in a negative way, but pro tip on making someone feel insignificant. That’s the way. I do thank sweet baby Jesus that none of my close friends do anything remotely like this these days. I mean, there are ways of being social without pulling this kind of crap. I don’t expect my hand held the entire time, I’d hate that. But the block? Ick!

Anyway. I’m at the drive up pharmacy window hoping I don’t get mom who doesn’t recognize me, or hoping she does. I can’t decide because I’m a wreck. If she does recognize me she’ll know that I’m just picking up a prescription for my mom and not stealing Percocet. But if she doesn’t she’ll see unkempt lady trying to score Percocet. All I know is I’m pre nervous for no reason. I’ve thought of a million reasons why this is suspicious activity.

So there she is at the window and she doesn’t recognize me and I’m nervous because I can’t see because I’m wearing my glasses and they’re smudged with tears and what’s going on. I try to smile and act normal, like I’m not a prescription pill addict, which I’m not but am sure I will be pegged as because I’m having a bad day and look like I actually am a pill addict….or need to be one.

All this is going through my head when she asks for my mom’s address. 

Total blank. 

I know it’s a compound word but for the life of me I can’t remember it. Let’s just say it’s Lakeside, which it’s not but this is the internet and I’m not giving you the street name. I was all, “uhhh, River…something?”

Now I’m sure she’s not going to give me the prescription. I don’t know my mom’s street address. She’s also going to call the DEA and they’re going to come to my house and take me jail. Who will get the boys ready for school THEN?

Mercifully she repeats the correct address and cheerfully hands it over.

While she’s still at the window I loudly ask the boys, “who’s going to take grandma’s prescription in to her when we get to her house?!?” You know. So  maybe she WON’T call the feds. Because I’m sure they don’t have anything better to do than go after suburban housewives with a bottle of Percocet.

My friend Kelly and I used to sit at our copywriter jobs and think of other jobs we could attempt. One was pharmacist. It was ruled out because neither of us are good at math. “What do you mean it was supposed to be .1 not 1? I was close! It’s just a decimal place, what’s the big deal? I spelled everything correctly! Why do you hate me so much?”

I don’t have any real problems and two healthy boys and I like to hug them and remember that.

Good story me.

I had to go to the pharmacy today to get a Percocet prescription for mommie dearest. I had a bad night last night, crushing chest pains/anxiety attack and I felt like I was going to throw up, which made me think I was actually having a heart attack because the warning signs are different for men than they are for women, which made the anxiety worse, which made me take an entire xanax and conk out completely. I didn’t wake up this morning so Mr Woolstone, in order to get me up, loudly announced, “well, I guess you two aren’t going to school since your mom isn’t getting up.”

I burst into tears.

Because really, no one else can throw some clothes at the boys and pack a lunch? Drop them off five minutes away? No one?

I cried all those five minutes to school, and all the way back. Discovered there’s a reason for all that emotion (monthly!). Chest pains promptly replaced by cramps.

Woolstone comes home for lunch oblivious as to why I feel so horrible and starts an interrogation, whereupon I feel the little tendrils of anxiety start to creep into my chest again before I grabbed Skeeter and started cuddling. (Self medicate!)

Picked up cub 1 from school and start off for the pharmacy and let’s just say I look like hell. A mess. And here I am picking up a prescription for Percocet that isn’t mine.

I’m immediately paranoid. I hope the pharmacist isn’t that mom who I’ve seen for years and smiled at but she never acknowledges my existence. Seriously. Her boys went to the same preschool and now they go to the same elementary school and no matter what she sees right through me.

Don’t you hate that? I’ve had boyfriends and close friends who sort of did that. My best friend in college used to talk to anyone else at a bar except me. Which, whatever. I don’t like being the center of attention and I’m fine on my own. But the patterned move for both this best friend and the boyfriend? If we were all in a circle talking they would move right in front of me to do a little tete a tete with someone else. Completely blocking me off even though I can assure you, I wasn’t interrupting or doing anything to take attention away from them. Bizarre. It wasn’t at all intentional in a negative way, but pro tip on making someone feel insignificant. That’s the way. I do thank sweet baby Jesus that none of my close friends do anything remotely like this these days. I mean, there are ways of being social without pulling this kind of crap. I don’t expect my hand held the entire time, I’d hate that. But the block? Ick!

Anyway. I’m at the drive up pharmacy window hoping I don’t get mom who doesn’t recognize me, or hoping she does. I can’t decide because I’m a wreck. If she does recognize me she’ll know that I’m just picking up a prescription for my mom and not stealing Percocet. But if she doesn’t she’ll see unkempt lady trying to score Percocet. All I know is I’m pre nervous for no reason. I’ve thought of a million reasons why this is suspicious activity.

So there she is at the window and she doesn’t recognize me and I’m nervous because I can’t see because I’m wearing my glasses and they’re smudged with tears and what’s going on. I try to smile and act normal, like I’m not a prescription pill addict, which I’m not but am sure I will be pegged as because I’m having a bad day and look like I actually am a pill addict….or need to be one.

All this is going through my head when she asks for my mom’s address.

Total blank.

I know it’s a compound word but for the life of me I can’t remember it. Let’s just say it’s Lakeside, which it’s not but this is the internet and I’m not giving you the street name. I was all, “uhhh, River…something?”

Now I’m sure she’s not going to give me the prescription. I don’t know my mom’s street address. She’s also going to call the DEA and they’re going to come to my house and take me jail. Who will get the boys ready for school THEN?

Mercifully she repeats the correct address and cheerfully hands it over.

While she’s still at the window I loudly ask the boys, “who’s going to take grandma’s prescription in to her when we get to her house?!?” You know. So maybe she WON’T call the feds. Because I’m sure they don’t have anything better to do than go after suburban housewives with a bottle of Percocet.

My friend Kelly and I used to sit at our copywriter jobs and think of other jobs we could attempt. One was pharmacist. It was ruled out because neither of us are good at math. “What do you mean it was supposed to be .1 not 1? I was close! It’s just a decimal place, what’s the big deal? I spelled everything correctly! Why do you hate me so much?”

I don’t have any real problems and two healthy boys and I like to hug them and remember that.

Good story me.

  1. ideleteme said: <3
  2. davidkendall said: It IS a good story, and one we grown-ups can all relate to on one level or another! Don’t ever hesitate to share! And we’re all here for you to vent to; that’s what cyber-friends are for!
  3. apatosaurus said: Hug
  4. iamjegs said: That was amazing. I’m glad you got your drugs and didn’t get arrested!!
  5. brooklet14 said: Hugs to you!
  6. aimeless said: i want to click on the heart like 20 times.
  7. keepingtrackofnothing said: <3 <3 <3 <3
  8. boggle- said: lymi
  9. wooliebear posted this
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