Unicorns, leprechauns, and I

I think I might be magical. Before you run off to have me committed, I'm only half serious. I'm actually positive that I'm magical. Perhaps that's not even the right word. What I actually mean by that, is that I have realized that I posses some super-human abilities, specifically that of invisibility. And no, I don't think I'm going too far by saying that (you can make that phone call now if you want).

It started a long time ago, but it's getting worse now. At first it was just a random occurrence, like once in awhile someone would cut in front of me in a line. These days, automatic doors aren't even opening for me. I'm serious, it happens like twice a week where I just stand outside an automatic door and inch closer and closer to it until someone comes from behind me and the doors open. It's like I'm lacking some sort of presence.

The crazy thing is, usually I am the only one who actually IS present. I blame it on the fact that I don't have a cell phone, but that's really only a hopeful guess. The honest truth is, I'm kind of forgettable. Let me give you an example of a near daily occurrence in my life. I am walking into a building behind someone. Said person opens the door, enters the building, and I am then met by a door in my face. Humbling, that.

Another personal favorite of mine is any place that I take Kelan where other children and parents are present. The library is where it's getting kind of sad. The scene I typically walk into is a bunch of kids wandering around aimlessly while a bunch of parents lean up against book shelves texting away, or in worst cases- taking phone calls! It seems like I'm having to say, "um, excuse us please, sorry" to people constantly. When did people just stop looking around? I find that when I sit down to read Kelan a story, I end up reading it to an entire little group of wandering children whose parents are MIA.

Don't even get me started about the grocery store. Sean absolutely refuses to shop with me anymore, and it's not as if I blame him, I wouldn't shop with myself if I didn't have to. The grocery store is like my own personal Bermuda Triangle, the second I walk in there, I am non existent. I end up getting stuck in aisles for ridiculously long periods of time because people just walk in font of me and crouch down to grab what they need, or reach down to switch songs on their mp3 player and walk right into me. I'll stand at the end of an aisle and a continuous line of carts will just keep passing me without letting me go ahead.

A couple days ago, I was grabbing some items, and a woman ahead of me parked her cart in the middle of the aisle. We were the only two in the particular aisle. She looked at me, and then looked at her cart and continued to grab things off the shelf. I edged closer to her cart, but I didn't want to move it myself because it was an awkward situation, what with her standing literally an inch away from it. I panicked and just stopped and pretended to be shopping until she left the aisle. I bought a can of tuna that I didn't need, just so that she didn't think I was crazy, which is so clearly ironic, because she wouldn't have noticed if I was laying down in front of her cart!!!

Invisibility isn't always such a bad thing though, I used to skip classes constantly in school without any repercussions. I never get stopped by those survey people or cell phone salesmen in the mall, and it's reassuring to know that I could probably have a lucrative career in the petty theft business if it was ever necessary.

I've been brainstorming ideas and I'm currently in the market for a bright orange hunting vest if anyone has one. Maybe that's why people are starting to get more and more eccentric. My theory is that Lady Gaga just got sick of freezing in the frozen food section and went nuts one day. It helps me feel less alone.

My five year plan: stay married and try not to screw up the kid I already have...

So, we're getting rid of baby things left and right. Because, let's face it, you can only walk by an empty nursery forty times a day for so long before you start to feel like one of those women in the lifetime movies who end up going crazy and cutting a baby out of someone...

And it's funny, because even though I've never set up a rigid, specific plan for my life, I certainly never imagined being the parent to an only child.

This is probably more information than you need or want, but since the miscarriage last spring, we haven't even been trying for a second child. And, it's not like we're running off to have any permanent "procedures", if you know what I mean.

It's just...complicated. And there are so many variables! I'm beginning to think that the smartest thing to do when having more than one child is just to keep having them before you can stop to think about it. Because once you stop to really think about it, you start thinking things like, "this whole him dressing himself and getting his own breakfast thing sure is nice..." and that leads to fantasies of never having to change a diaper again, and actually sitting down and eating for longer than 10 minutes...you know, crazy things like that.

Not to make it sound like it's just my decision or anything. I mean, Sean would already have two or three kids if it was just up to him, but that's because he's never been in active labor, among other things. So we are handling this like pretty much every other decision we can't finalize...which is, let's just see what happens if we just ignore it.

So little by little the baby things are disappearing. I've totally given up on gaining that weight I was supposed to gain in order to prepare for possibly having hyperemesis gravadarium again (good times), and I'm starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, everything will end up exactly how it was meant to, without planning it down to the second.

Or maybe the world will end in 2012. Problem solved.

200 dollars later.

I'm not sure what has happened, but psychiatry has taken a weird turn. It used to be all chaise lounges and dream analyzing. Now it's all- here's your script, and make sure to note any weird side effects and tell me all about them when I see you again in six months!

I've actually had the pleasure of meeting with a small variety of psychiatrists in my life. Some good, some bad, and some who should have quit before they started. I give them all secret nicknames in my head (actually, I pretty much do this for everyone). The two worst Psychiatrists I've ever had were Dr. Huge Feet and my latest, Dr. Hunt and Peck. Dr. Huge Feet kept telling me that I was too "trim." I'm not sure why he chose that to fixate on, seeing as how I went there with an anxiety issue, but the last appointment I had with him, he handed me a new prescription that would "be okay to take because you are quite trim and could stand to gain a few pounds." I never filled that prescription, and have not entered his office since.

Which brings me to my latest waste of time, Dr. Hunt and Peck. I chose him because he was at the top of the list alphabetically, which, in retrospect may have been a mistake. Now, I've never been to medical school, but there seems to be a pattern in the medical field. It goes something like this:

PRE-APPOINTMENT

1)Patient goes through some scheduling department

2)Patient fills out paperwork and gives it to some sort of "first line" representative

3)At some point, the medical professional skims over paperwork and makes a judgement about the patient before meeting them

APPOINTMENT

4) Patient sits alone (fully clothed if lucky) in a small office while somewhere the medical professional skims the patient's file to remember what the pre-diagnosis was

5) Medical professional meets and talks to the patient (usually the shortest part of the entire process).

6) Medical professional diagnoses patient and offers a solution.

POST APPOINTMENT

7) Some sort of dictation is recorded and sent out to billing or if the patient is lucky, off to an insurance company who will pay as little as possible

8) Patient is broke for several months.


Everyone just accepts this process because it's routine, and even my preschooler can tell you that routine matters. It's comforting to know that once you have your clothes off, you know what will come next.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure Dr. Hunt and Peck missed this class in med school; Because here's how he rolls:

PRE APPOINTMENT

1)Spend 10 minutes on the phone with the scheduling department- this is a hassle because usually Dr. Hunt and Peck is booked three months in advance.

APPOINTMENT

1) I sit in a large waiting room filling out a sheet that expects me to rank my feelings of self loathing on a scale of 1-10 and my insomnia on a scale of "does not interfere with daily life" to "does interfere with daily life" with nothing in between. During this time, Dr. Hunt and Peck is doing god knows what, but what I assume is playing Angry Birds on some mobile device.

2) Dr. Hunt and Peck calls my name in the waiting room and seems surprised when I walk over to him (He does not recognise me from one appt. to the next). I am then ushered into a small office.

3) Hunt and Peck begins to read my file in front of me while I sit in silence for about five minutes wondering why he couldn't have done this before, the crappy magazines in the waiting room would have been more enjoyable than staring at the wall and waiting for him to address me.

4) Hunt and Peck starts asking all of the questions that I just answered on the sheet. Even though I'm sure he is a nice man, I'm convinced that he could not care less and am secretly tempted to say something shocking, just for some excitement.

5) Hunt and Peck types his dictation while I am answering. I'm not sure if it is because he has a bad memory or what, but I am forced to watch him type everything with his TWO POINTER FINGERS.

6) Dr. Hunt and Peck looks at me sincerely and asks me very broad questions like "what's going on in your life right now?" I blink very slowly and wonder what the hell he is expecting me to say to him- a man who sees me twice or three times a year. I panic a little bit wondering how my answers will affect my meds. I tell him everything is going well- I'm pretty sure I would say that if both of my legs were on fire or I had planned to leave his office and drive off the nearest bridge.

7)More typing. I sit and wonder how much housework I could have gotten done during this time and question how it is I can trust a man with my psychiatric medical decisions if he hasn't even learned the home keys.

8) I walk out with six months of refills and more "feelings of guilt or unworthiness" than when I walked in.

POST APPOINTMENT

9) Dr. Hunt and Peck goes back to his angry birds until his next client has waited a sufficient amount of time in the big waiting room.