The Government Ate My Paperwork, Then They Paid Me.

Ok, so I should probably start with an apology. However, I'm not going to, and here's why: excuses are easier. I've spent the last 6 months applying and fighting for my disability to go through. And just a couple hours ago I got my first payment. I can breathe now.

You all knew I was bi-polar, and since the last post I've also added OCD, GAD (general anxiety disorder), PTSD, and mild Agoraphobia. Quite the list, huh. It's actually quite funny when you get right down to it.

For example, a conversation I would normally hold in my head on any given day:

(BP): So, I should really get out of bed.
(GAD): But what if it's COLDDDD out?
(PTSD): We could get sick!
(BP): Nope, I am getting up.
                Crap! This house is a mess!
(OCD): I've been telling you that for weeks!
(BP): Well, I've been in a down swing for a while. Why don't you help me clean it up?
(OCD): It's gotten too bad, I can't face it. You mixed up everything I had in ORDER!
(GAD): It's too much, I need to lay down.
(BP): We'll do it later. How about a walk to the library?
(A): NOOOOOOOO!!!!
(OCD): Just don't forget to go the right way, no sidetrips or something may go wrong!
(GAD and PTSD) By yourself??? NOOOOOO!!!!
(BP) I guess I'll go later, after I take a nap.

Rinse and repeat. But such is my life. On the upside, at least I'm not Schizophrenic...yet...lol!

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady

Buying Booze For My Sober Mother: Gin Edition

My parents are VERY anti-alcohol. They are so against drinking that they don't even know what the names of alcohol are. My mother is also an avid gardener. She's recently gotten into using household items for weed killing and such.

So today she and my dad show up at my house with a magazine that gave a recipe for homemade weed killer. This conversation happened:

MOM: Hey, do you know what G-I-N is? Daddy says he thinks its a type of alcohol.

ME: Gin. Yep, that's alcohol. You can get it at any liquor store.

MOM: You KNOW we don't go into places like THAT. (said with obvious scorn.)

ME: Mom, do you want to give me the money to go buy some gin for your plants?

MOM: Well, you don't tell anybody we bought alcohol. (nope, no one. Just letting everybody read it on my blog...)

MOM: How much does it cost?

ME: Well, I've never bought gin, but probably less than 10 bucks.

Mom and I then walk over to the car, where Dad is waiting patiently.

MOM: Daddy, (yes she really calls him that...) will you take *Kat Lady* (my name omitted for obvious reasons) to the liquor store so she can buy me some gin for my plants?

DAD: Why? Do your plants need to get drunk? (The wit of my father astounds me...lol)

MOM: Don! That's not funny. I use it for weed killer. (I would use it for other, more obvious reasons...and I rarely drink.)

DAD: Shirley, calm down, I'll take her with me and we'll go get your alcohol.

MOM: Shhh! I don't want the whole neighborhood to know!

ME: The whole neighborhood is probably drunk already, mom, it's Memorial Day Weekend.

Dad hands me a twenty, and I grab my ID (which they didn't check btw...) and we drive the approximate 2 blocks to the nearest liquor store. I briefly contemplate buying a dollar shot bottle to ease the headache of dealing with my mother. I buy the gin, and exit the store. This conversation happens:

DAD: Was it expensive?

ME: Nope. 6 bucks for a decent size bottle. Wanna see?

DAD: NO. That's your MOTHER's gin.

DAD: By the way, that was a lot of Mexicans buying a lot of beer behind you...

ME: Uh-huh. It's pretty cheap. It's also a holiday weekend.

DAD: You would think it was Cinco De Mayo. (Dad's slightly racist, but in an ironic way.)

ME: Let's just get this liquor to Mom, so she can murder some weeds with alcohol poisoning.

We return and I leave the liquor in the car.

MOM: Did you get it? Is there enough?

ME: Mom, you could drown a whole lawn full of weeds with it.

DAD: Shirley, I had her pick me up a bottle of Champagne so I have something for later. (COMPLETELY deadpan. The man is comic genius!)

MOM: (starts looking like she's gonna blow her top)

ME: (Starts maniacally laughing...this is just too ridiculous.)

DAD: Shirley get a grip. If I wanted to get drunk I'd buy some of those Mexican's beers.


I later find out that mom snuck the brown bag with the gin in it inside like she was smuggling crack. I imagine it looked a lot like Gollum trying to look inconspicious. What I wanna know is how many weeds is she gonna kill with that amount of gin.
Goodbye Mom and Dad's lawn...

Love and Laughter,
-Kat Lady