Saturday.

Poshen
1. 1 cup woter
2. 3 cups of bacing soda
3. 4 caps of bacing powter
4. 4 drops of food callering

Today Mr. C wanted to make a potion. He even wrote a recipe for it. According to his recipe we could make potion out of a cup of water water, two cups of baking powder and a teaspoon of food coloring. Instead of wasting the ingredients, I said, well why don't we make muffins instead? He thought that was a fine idea so we mixed up some home made blueberry muffins. As we were mixing, his big brother's two little girlfriends came over. They are way more interesting than muffins. He dashed out to play with the big kids and left me to bake, which is fine, since it gives me time to chronicle the past few days.

Yesterday I tried to pick up my prescription, but it was denied, I'm assuming because of the convoluted way I got my last blood test done at the hospital last time. It isn't like I'm asking for morphine. Why are they holding my prescription hostage? Of course, on Friday when I shook the bottle and realized I need a refill, I put on my glasses (I take it at night before bed) and there were zero refills. That's okay, said the pharmacist the next morning when I called, shouldn't be too much of a problem to get them to authorize a refill. So at four fifty six, when I went in to pick it up, after buying a quart of oil for the leaking vehicle, running across town to pick up boy prescriptions (Because their dad is just my little taxi service, so I always pick up the paper prescription, bring it back across town to the pharmacy, etc. etc....if he's my taxi service, why am I doing all the running around? What does he do exactly? He takes a boy to band on Tuesday and Wednesday mornings. Um. I think that's all he does. Oh, the one time boy had to march at a game on his weekend, I think he drove him somewhere once for that, which I remember because the little boys were disappointed they didn't go to the game.) But you know this. Anyway, I was there at the pharmacy, and the pharmacist said, "Well if you call real quick and make an appointment they'll probably authorize the refill." Sure, if it wasn't already 5 PM and their office is closed.

Hello. Please Call Somewhere Else, Because We Wouldn't Want to Make our Services Available to Working People, or People With A Life. Boop.

Never mind. I won't die, I'll just get really really tired for a week. Hopefully someone will take pity on me and authorize a refill until I can arrange for another blood test.

Today I went to my new official real, workin' for a living, at a company, type job. For three hours every other week, this job is at the health club, which means, after Nov. 1, I have a health club membership. Fun stuff. A real job, the one that will soothe the DHS people's souls and make it look like I'm not really a deadbeat. Because even though I work twice as hard at the library and at home making tee shirts, those two jobs don't count. That federal money doesn't count. The other is self employment, which frankly, I haven't made any money at, because my supplies were probably more than my income. Hopefully things will pick up. My items have skulls on them and Halloween is this month. Woo hoo. That would be great. Time to start abusing my Facebook with shameless self promotion.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/RitaLaurenDesigns

Buy a shirt. You won't be sorry. They're spooky, they're cute, and if you have a girl, I put a bow on it.