#sent an email and a text and made an appt

[naomiknight-17]

I managed to do 3 administrative-y things off my to-do list today and I am gonna call that a victory

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 440: GRWM Dr. J

Re: Why haven’t you checked this out?

An old subject line from my friend Rich had mocked me in my inbox earlier, the email unable to be read. I now stood in front of the cheap, full-length mirror hanging on the wall in my disheveled apartment with the new phone - my Bebihon - that my girlfriend Melissa had gifted me. I’d just got the alert that she’d…jesus what’s happened to my life?… finally given me permission to open the message. The fact that I was naked and supposed to be getting ready for this grand opening event that was already half-underway downstairs didn’t seem to be registering with me at that moment. The clothes they had rented me still hung in my small closet, and I’d been told to be ready by 7 o’clock…and it was now 7:13. My mind, as it was wont to do these days, had drifted. 

It was, of course, humiliating it was to have to request access to my own email on my own phone. It was kinda ridiculous. I had to wait hours fort Melissa’s consent before I could even open a message. It was for my own protection, she’d said, that she’d bought me this phone, along with all its restrictions to keep me safe. They all seemed to think the world was becoming too big and too dangerous a place for a ‘vulni’ man like me, and any unmonitored communications from the outside world could prove to be risky. After I’d requested access to the message, I’d had to wait for her assent and it had taken her all this time to acknowledge it from her own Mazafon. Maybe she was off preparing the event, getting herself ready, and when she had finally approved it, allowed me to open it, it had come with a text from her, a briefly ominous caveat: We’ll talk about this laterrr. 

The email from Rich, a fellow geriatrician, was a reply to what I’d sent him earlier this week. I’d told him about the changes in my life since we’d seen one another at the conference - changes at work, changes in my love life, changes with my health. It was my shrinking that seemed to concern him the most, and he’d obviously gotten the vibe that I wasn’t doing much to pursue investigating it, or seeking treatment. As I read his email - being a physician himself, it got kinda jargon-y, and he was offering to help - I began to feel a bit funny, lightheaded, even nauseous. I think it was stress. Maybe I was just getting old and needed some reading glasses because as I came towards the part about how he’d done some research and work on his end to find me a local specialist that could help, my vision had become blurry. I was just barely able to make the final bit out, right at the end:

‘I made you an appt with their endocrinology clinic. It’s still run by guys, so you can trust them. It's this coming Tuesday. Be there.’

I felt my world had been becoming more and more insular every day, by leaps and bounds, and the idea of seeking out care away from hom…away from clinic here was making me feel weird. I considered starting to research it myself - what kind of endocrinology clinic was this? Was it just for men? That’s weird right? It gave me an immediate bad taste in the back of my mouth. Why was Rich doing this, anyway? Butting into my life? I mean, I knew he was worried about me, but…c’mon. In fact, when I considered looking up this endocrinologist online I began feeling bad, anxious, even nauseous. This was probably just not the right time to do it; I could search them up later. Yeah, later.

I let the hand that held my phone hang down at my side, and I looked at myself in the mirror. I shivered, seeing the reflection of the naked man that looked back at me. 

Fuck. 

I was…what? 4’7”? I weighed 73 lbs this morning. I looked like a skinny child… well, not like a child. Children had different proportions, and certainly didn’t sport schlongs that hung down to their knees. I looked like a…admit it, dude…like a man that was shrinking, withering. I knew this should be filling me with existential horror, the reality of it, but it didn’t. Well, at least not as much as it should have. It sort of weirded me out that I wasn’t more aggressively afraid. 

There were other thoughts, though, swirling up into my mind, rising from some inner depths. Deep secrets that I had never shared with anyone surfacing, bubbling to life. I’d always realized that society's old definition of masculinity was being strong and confident, and that it didn't include being attracted to taller, dominant women. So I’d played that part all my life, in my career, and in my marriage to Sheryl - the man, the masculine guy, or at least my version of it. In my deep underwater grottos, though, hidden fantasies had always lurked. In the past I was afraid of allowing these to rise and show themselves, knowing I would be judged, ridiculed, or worse. It had actually happened after the breakup of my affair with Rina, four or so years ago, when my whole staff at the time had gotten an earful from her, in her anger, summarizing my, uh, proclivities for all to hear. It was humiliating. It had even happened when I was a young teen, when my uncle (who’d raised me after the death of my grandparents) found my picture stash under my bed. So, I’d learned the hard way to keep my secrets to myself, tucked into the caverns of my inner life.

But now things were different.

Society had started to change, and I had started to change. I could see it in the mirror, in the thin, shrunken man looking back at me. He seemed to recede further and further away from those old notions of masculinity, more “vulni” every time I looked, and maybe it wasn’t horrible. He was different, he was new. 

I took a deep breath. 

Everything was different…but was it actually worse? I mean, before…had it really been all that great? What was it about my old life, the old ways, that were better? Did I really miss it? Being responsible for all my patients? Organizing the practice, taking care of a home? I missed what I’d had with Sheryl, maybe...but the times I missed were from years gone by, ancient history.  Really, the most exciting thing to me from the old days had been the women. The affairs with the younger women - Rina, Deanna before her - had been intoxicating. Equally so, just having women all around me at work - back then it had been Marisela, Lakshmi, even Hilda and the others that had quit - being surrounded by females had always been the only thing I truly loved about my old life. My new life, and in fact this new world, now had so much more, more of them. Not just here at work, but even outside. In government, in business, seemingly everywhere, female authority was eclipsing the old ways. The new world was being filled with, and run by, women - and my world was being filled with her. 

Melissa.

Oh my god, Melissa. 

My heart fluttered, my throat caught as I thought of her. I was flabbergasted by the fact that we were together, in love in fact. She was utterly gorgeous, getting so tall, becoming some sort of superwoman and - look at me, naked and pale, dick the size of my forearm -  I was becoming this.

I’d been telling myself that finding a diagnosis, finding treatment and putting an end to my shrinking was the rational choice. That, though, would put an end to this dark thrill I got waking up every day and finding myself sunk another inch deeper into the stygian depths of my old fantasies. I was being pulled down in their slow vortex, their warm, swirling pool - couldn’t I just let myself sink? Give myself up to it and drown in pleasure? What was rational about fighting it, making myself miserable for no gain? I knew, full well, that the smaller I got, the bigger Melissa seemed. And the bigger Melissa became, the more enraptured by her I felt. When I was able to push all these existential fears out of my mind, I knew that a life of getting littler in Melissa’s strong arms could be the greatest bliss I’d ever known.

Barely even realizing I’d done it, I’d brought my phone back to life, and swiped to an old picture of her...

Nnngh. Oh god.

Along with the gift of my phone, Melissa had filled an album on it with pictures of herself, old and new, to…what had she said?…”keep me company”. Where before I’d had to hide them from my wife - and they’d been the eventual undoing of my marriage - now pictures of the tall, busty brunette were something I was obviously being encouraged to ogle. 

Christ. She is so perfect. So fucking perfect. 

I looked up, into the mirror, and then down. I took a step back, so I could watch.  My cock, the monster of a thing that lived between my legs and increasingly ran my life, was stiffening. I’d always had a large penis, more than nine inches, the most impressive thing about an otherwise nondescript body. Back when I was nearly six feet tall it was a stirring sight when erect, but now…my god. Watching myself harden was a total spectacle, something between a horror movie and a circus freak show. I had shrunk, it had not. Rising from my withered frame to point up to my chest, it was nearly a fifth of my total height, thick and snaked with pulsing veins. It was becoming iron strong where I was more and more increasingly brittle.

Aside from the dread of it, though, there was something secretly rousing about the idea of becoming progressively smaller while my manhood did not. I watched in the mirror as my erection grew and grew and grew, impressing even myself, and I imagined it ballooning further, soaring in proportion to my still shrinking body. Suddenly I found myself gripped by the notion of being totally overwhelmed by my own sexuality, my legs failing, my entire self being pinned to the ground helpless underneath it as it throbbed, thicker nearly than my entire torso. And then, from above me, a huge, elegantly female hand reached down to-

The door to my apartment <clicked>. 

“Dr. J? Are you in here?”

===============================================

thx to RiF for help in editing

[amloveabledeathmo]

Doctors need to actually listen.

I am really fucking sick of dealing with medical professionals around here. At the beginning of the year I was referred to a rheumatologist to try to figure out the cause of the chronic pain, it has taken at least 3 years of telling my primary about the constant pain to even get the damn referral.

The Rheumatologist gave me a huge list of like 14 different blood tests to get done at a lab, my veins are difficult so I like to go to the same lab because they have been far and away the best at causing the least amount of bruising and pain, so I always ask if I can get blood work done at my preferred lab. They said yeah gave me the paper with the lab orders.

I went that week and got it all done. 2 months later they call a few hours before my appointment time to ask if I ever got the blood work done. It's good they called because the appointment was for telehealth which they absolutely did not inform me it was going to be a telehealth and not in person. Anyway they claimed to have not received any results, call the lab, yes the lab sent them to the office months ago when I got the tests done. Turns out, according to the rheumatologist, the codes must have been wrong because they didn't get any results for the tests they needed and that was the whole appointment. They said they'd fix the codes and I could drive over an hour one way to pick them up or they could email them. So I confirmed my email, waited a few days, nothing, texted them since that's what they always want, nothing, called, nothing, retexted, nothing. So I've been ghosted by the dr apparently.

Had a primary dr appointment and got referred to a pain clinic. Got an appointment immediately basically, probably should have made me more suspicious. Had a 30 minute phone call to do all the stupid intake questions and what not before the appt. Get there and what the fuck do I have to try to fill out? The same DAMN questions! They kept asking for my pain on the pain scale, and would not let me say the pain scale is much to arbitrary and impossible to actually answer.

They then asked where the pain was, which I already had said was everywhere. NO they insisted Where's the MOST pain and just so you know we specialize in joints so which joint is the worst. There is not a consistent most pain, it depends on how I've been moving, what's popped painfully the most recent, so I said I guess shoulders, wrists, and ankles. Oh no still wrong, I had to choose ONE, one single joint. So I said the previously broken ankle. They finally moved on from joints just to question if I've had a sleep study and do I stop breathing at night. No I cannot deal with stuff touching my face. So they harped on about sleep studies for a while.

They asked if I had any diagnosis for the pain which I had already told the intake person all about the rheumatologist bullshit and had to retell them who then said oh well let us know when they give you a diagnosis because that will change the way we treat the pain. Then proceeded to tell me that most pain is caused because people need physical therapy, need to exercise, and need to cut out any animal products in their diet.

This was after I said that I have gotten less and less active because of the pain. I am in pain at all times. I can't even sleep through the night because there is not a completely pain free position for me, I have to rotisserie all night. I said I swim some but this year even swimming hurts. THIS MOTHERFUCKER then goes on and on about how swimming CANNOT hurt because there is no pressure on the joints and I need to go to a swim physical therapy because of course I'm in pain since I'm not exercising.

Which I don't do because I can't even go shopping anymore! I told them this. That just going shopping and walking around for like an hour can make me basically unable to move the next day because of so much pain. Well that doesn't matter because if I would just cut out all animal products and exercise I would be better. We also discussed how I am basically resistant to pain meds and just most meds in general too. Oh but don't worry I'll send in a prescription for some inflammation meds at the lowest possible dose and it might help you sleep too!

Oh he also said he saw that I was a patient of the dr who did my hysterectomy and that he had prescribed pain meds to help me. NO YOU GODDAMN MORON! HE PRESCRIBED THE PAIN MEDS BECAUSE I HAD A VERY PAINFUL SURGERY!

THEY JUST DO NOT LISTEN AND I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF IT!

[deadlycalamity]

todays just been super annoying. apparently my rent payment never went through (even though distinctly remember putting it in on the website and have the browser histroy to prove it) so I got a late charge.

after my landlord texted me about it I texted her back and explained the situation and resubmitted my payment. she agreed she'd to take the fee off, but I had just paid for my portion of the rent (minus the late fee) but instead of going directly to my rent and pet rent charges, it paid the fee, and left me with $50 left on my actual rent payment so she couldn't even take it off. And couldn't credit me for it for some reason (or just didnt care enough to try despite us never being late before). so i just had to make a seperate payment for it anyway

its just so frustrating because I *am* very forgetful, and if I actually forgot to pay my rent i wouldn't even be upset! that would be my bad! might be butthurt about it, but thats my own consequences. but I KNOW i did, I remember doing it, and its in my internet history! just grrr.

later in the day I was looking for a pop-on keyboard i have for a tablet, and I literally. cant. find it. anywhere. I *just* cleaned all of my kitchen and dining room and living room like- 2 days ago. Its not in my room, its not out there, i have no clue where it went or where i even saw it last. And i needed it to do some work but i literally still, cant, find it. so stupid. i can just use my desktop so ok, but like why is it so hard to just. be able to find soemthing when i need/want it. this is nowhere near the first time this has happened

Aaand cherry on the cake, i forgot two months ago when i first started my t to set up my three month appointment, so last week I finally remembered to set it up. even after saying it was for my three month and i only was on for two months currently, they kept wanting to do it for like, this week. (which is weird bc last time i set up my appt it was like, a month out.) So i set it for like the 3rd week of febuary, they sent in the blood work test asap but i didnt have the time last week to do them, besides i literally, just put in the appt, so i figured it wouldn't hurt to wait to this week since i would still have 2.5 weeks.

but then they messaged me being like THIS IS YOUR LAST REMINDER TO GET YOUR TESTS IN BEFORE YOUR APPT NEXT WEEK! and im like. 1) i have had no reminders. i just put in the appt last week. 2) what do you mean next week. My appt is the week after. am i being pedantic? maybe. but is it a typo or do they have me down for next week for some reason? did they schedule a 3 monther for like 2 months in and didnt tell me? but i only have a confirmation for the week after. just kinda made me feel like crap for not doing it right right away.

so im like ok fine l'll do it tomorrow. was planning on thursday but fine. but im dehydrated so now i have to drink a shit ton of water (been trying to get better at it but im. not great even with reminders and shit) and i fasted last time so i probably should fast again and that sounds like ass and the nurses were so annoying about drawing my blood last time and missed my vein literally 3 times (another reason i need to get hydrated)

but INSTEAD of doing that i am dehydrating myself more by crying a bunch about my stupid day :)))) aaaaaa

anyway wow but no i can't have adhd mom no way. I lost something and forgot to double check i got a confirmation email when i paid my rent and i forgot to get my blood drawn immediately after finally setting an appt that i forgot to set earller and had a mental break down about it all but being clutzy and forgetful and spacey is just my personality lol 🤪 doesn't matter if it literally runs in the family and my brother has it and if i get tested and get diagnosed that means they must be wrong bc my mom is always right soo 🙄

i am going to double check to get a referral for adhd bc this is actually ridiculous some days. Sometimes its not as bad but fuck if the bad days aren't bad! but i dont deserve help i guess! idk! idk!!

[dopaminergicaddictions]

3/12/24

11:13 p.m Updated

So I made it to my testosterone shot thankfully, as yesterday I was 10 minutes late to my doctor appt and they made me reschedule. If I lose my primary care I'm going to have so many issues between my insomnia script and my biweekly testosterone shot. I'm really thankful I got there with 5 minutes to spare.

I also lost track of time yesterday bc I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off and I was 20 minutes late to my appt with Mike... he texted me and offered me 6:30 after I didn't show up for 6. I showed up at 6:27 and he didn't show up... I waited 27 minutes... either way today I made my obligations. I met with Mike too for the first time in like a month. After yesterday him leaving me hanging and pretending not to get my texts. I prob shouldn't see him but what am I supposed to do? Danielle was all about countertransference.... and finding a therapist as a transguy is tough. I write it in my emails and I can send 10 and only one person responds to me so whatever, it is what it is.

I called Eye Doctors around town and 2 out of 3 said they measure each eye individually. The other said both at the sametime. I called my eye doctor, I lied and said I got their script from an online eye wear place and I got headaches... I said it could either be the script or that the glasses were made incorrectly. Luckily my insurnace will cover a retest within 30 days of getting your script. I'm scheduled for the 19th and I will make sure they do both eyes separately before I take my ray bans off hold. And I'll update the script with the accurate test results. For now I'll just wear my distance glasses. I'm going to keep them bc of the shape and style for gaming and driving... if I got them updated as progressives they would be 304$ cause they won't let you pick clear lenses in this frame, you got to pick transitions and the most expensive one... it's ridiculous cause I love these frames... so my ray bans will be progressive pending my new test on Tuesday....

I worked on a few things I've been putting off, I called my capture card place and gamestop. The capture card place will replace it refurbished but only give me a month warranty as I am officially out of warranty but I called in December and it saved my ass. I called game stop and my warranty for the same capture card ended March 9th. Psychosis and my circadian rhythm make accomplishing things very difficult.... The manager at gamestop sent an email to try to remedy the situation as I went in store in December and tried to replace it or get a refund. I have a 2 year warranty that just expired. I explained that I have psychosis and I've been having issues getting stuff done. He is going to try to replace it or give me my 79$ back.. it would be more ideal... as a refurbished with a month warranty isn't ideal... but I have one of two options. I have to wait until Monday to hear back from Gamestop before I make the decision to either send it back to EVGA or accept whatever gamestop will give me.

I had months to call and I couldn't cause I'm always overwhelmed and stressed because I have to simulate my auditory cortex with pod casts or mindless TV like The Simpsons with heavy dialogue just to not hear the voice. I used to work in silence... like to focus I would sit in complete silence and do my stuff. Now I must always have constant chatter on in the background to avoid hearing the voice... hearing how repetitive it is drives me crazy. However listening to mindless chatter in the background even as I write this drives me crazy cause I can't focus the way I want to.

Not to mention I have constant doctor appts and a fucked circadian rhythm. I generally have 1 hours and 30 minutes a day with the time I wake up... and if a doctors appt is during that time which i have therapy 3 days a week. It gives me like 20 minutes to call a place.

I really want to kill myself after reading about recovery rates. I'm considered in remission... "Remission" is defined as symptomatic but functioning in a social/occupational/taking care of yourself type of way. Basically it's someone who hallucinates, but is firmly gripped in reality. You can't be delusional... and you have to be able to take care of yourself, shower, eat, cook, shop, drive, make appts, have fulfilling social relationships, have a job etc...

I don't have a job and likely never will. If I could stop having ocd I'd work with kids. I'd be able to do it with the voice. I can't with my ocd and psychosis. Either way I am in remission as I meet all criteria.

Remission is depressing and when you look at graphs, a lot of people are in Remission...

Recovery is a different beast.. it's having no symptoms. When you look at these charts, my percentage of actually not hallucinating one day is about 24% in 6 months, 26% in 12 months, 39% in 24 months. It doesn't seem promising.

I have "fulfilling" relationships. It's funny. When you have friends and you're single, you feel more alone. Hanging out with Charlotte Saturday, Marcy after Charlotte left (cause I didn't get a real birthday party), hanging out with John Monday over mic playing FC4 was not fulfilling. I hallucinated much less but I felt alone. They all have partners. I'm lacking companionship. I'm lacking someone to hug, hold hands with, share all my most intimate secrets with, someone to trust to have always be there for me.

I've been in support groups for voice hearers and everyone is more crazy than me. Everyone has schizophrenia and schizoaffective, etc. They see more, hear more and are all on antipsychotics.. most have tardive dsykinesia. No one is like me. I'm the odd one out who has to be sensitive about antipsychotics bc everyone is on them. Everyone is eccentric. I feel like I don't belong.

I feel like I don't belong anywhere. I feel like my chance to recover could take anywhere from 3 years to 10 years and I may never not hallucinate.... it may be that I am in remission for the rest of my life... I will never take antipsychotics I don't want negative symptoms, movement disorders, seizures, and I don't want to have 30% of my life shortened....

So here I stand, in remission. Wondering if full recovery is possible when I feel so fucking unfulfilled with everything I have in my life. No one likes my face enough on these dating apps to even get to know me..

As i talked to John. Marcy. Charlotte I felt this hollowing aloneness. I'm not like you. You have fulfillment. You don't have secrets that will make sure no one ever loves you or stays. You're not like me.

Until I find a partner I'm going to feel this way. Which I likely won't.

Until I actually recover I will never feel at peace. If Kristen keeps her license I'm actually going to commit suicide.

If Kristen does lose her license if my life doesn't get more fulfilling I'm going to kill myself.

I don't think there is any point in fighting. Yet I keep doing it and idk why.

All I know is I have to report Kristen before I end my life. She doesn't get to take mine without at least having a red mark on her perfect record.

Antipsychotics aren't even considered on this chart cause 99.99% take them... and I won't. But yea it's pretty disappointing. I'm depressed and I don't see much of a point in trying. I got to at least submit my paperwork before I do it.

I don't believe in soulmates. I don't believe there is someone out there for me. I don't believe I'll be anything or even have a somewhat satisfying relationship with anyone.

Once I get news of kristen license I'm ending my life. Especially if she gets to keep it. But idk how many more disappointing months I can live like this. I've talked to 2 people who had thc induced psychosis who didn't take antipsychotics they heard a voice the whole time and recovered within 1 year and 6 months that's all I got for research from people like me.

[chicago-geniza]

I am in so much pain but being so brave about it!!! >:( So far we have:

Made & eaten food

Taken migraine meds

Taken additional painkillers

Emailed asthma study lady back, also texted

Sent MyChart message to new allergist apologizing profusely for missing appointment & asking to reschedule if possible

Now gotta:

Go to email, find login for cardio clinic's MyChart system ✅

Message the nurse about rescheduling echo because calling gets you put in hold for 84 years ✅

Also in email: but date & time of next neuropsych appt in calendar ✅

Take clothes out of dryer ✅

Start load of laundry ✅

Move that load to dryer ✅

Take THOSE clothes out, put in hamper, put second load in washing machine

Take hamper with clean clothes to bedroom

Back to regular clinic MyChart: see if make appointment for TSH, T levels, vitamins B & D, C reactive protein, igE to check Xolair, CBC w/ differential to see if I still have None Lymphocytes w/ The Neutrophilia That Ate Chicago. Prob also renal function

Pay the Big Bill

Order pill cutter. It is $3 & you lost the one you've had for years in the move & still need to cut your pills

Finalize grocery list

Place grocery order (?)

PM meds ✅

Refill weekly pill case

Crack an eye at Healthcare dot gov

Notebooks and pens like the one from Poland

Tomorrow:

Maybe asthma study?

Pharmacy 1

Pharmacy 2

Post office (write address down)

Think of long-term things: seating; surfaces; book scanner; art printer

Print: court letters

Write: checks

Make sure values are still current

WASH THE DISHES

Bag room trash

Bag bathroom trash

Take out kitchen trash

Flatten boxes for recycling

[trbl-will-find-me]

High Society (1/2)

Pre- EU/EW. Lt. Commader John Bradford and Dr. Elizabeth Regan are called upon to represent the XCOM project. Too bad she’s jet lagged, and he’s more than a little distracted.

Her phone keeps buzzing.

Her phone keeps buzzing, but she doesn’t have the energy to investigate why.

Her phone keeps buzzing, but she doesn’t have the energy to investigate why, and in truth, she really doesn’t care.

She stares at the offending object, vibrating against John’s coffee table, and briefly considers shoving it under a bed. That’ll teach you.

But that would require getting up, and right now, that feels like the gravest of all impositions.

–

John Bradford stares down at his phone, brow furrowed.

He knows for a fact that Elizabeth isn’t lecturing somewhere. He knows this, because he’d picked her up at the airport last night, woken her up for breakfast this morning, and made sure she’d eaten before he left for work. On a good day, Lizzie isn’t to be trusted in a kitchen, and this is by no means a good day.

Briefly, he considers texting his neighbor: Quick question – is my house still standing or no?

Two emails, six texts, and two phone calls. He sighs. Guess I’m taking lunch early.

– 

She is vaguely aware of someone standing over her. She realizes this should be a source of some concern — didn’t John lock the door when he left? — but can’t quite bring herself to move from her position curled on the couch. She hopes if it’s an intruder, he’ll take what he needs, leave the wine, and leave her be.

“So, this is why you haven’t answered your phone.”

Definitely not an intruder. Definitely John.

“It won’t shut up,” she groans. “Why won’t it shut up?”

“It won’t shut up because I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.”

“Kitchen too much work. Just couch.”

“I appreciate your dedication to not burning my house down, but you have to get up.”

She rolls over just enough to give him her best attempt at a dirty look, the effect somewhat diluted by the tangle of hair covering her face. He brushes the strands back without a moment’s hesitation. “Absolutely terrifying, Lizzie.”

She leans into his touch. “I manage to sleep the whole day?”

He shakes his head. “It’s only about eleven.”

“You have the thing tonight still?”

He draws a deep breath. Like ripping a bandaid off, he tells himself. “We have the thing tonight.”

“We? Oh, no,” she says, pushing herself up. “Nope. Uh-uh.”

He nods. “Curran’s in the hospital. You’re up, per his orders.”

“What does he expect me to do? Sleep on people?”

“I would go with represent the XCOM project before I went with sleep.”

“Isn’t that your job?”

“If it were just my job, we wouldn’t have spent the last eighteen months on the road together.”

“Okay, fair. But, I’m nowhere near ready to handle any sort of formal event. I don’t have make up here, or a hair appointment, or a dress, or …” She trails off, hugging a throw pillow to her chest.

“Which is why you have to get up.”

“Why would you do this to me? I am so jet-lagged.”

“It’s black-tie, so you can’t go in pajamas. And I didn’t have any say in it, so stop looking so betrayed.”

She looks up at him with her best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Tell him I’m dead.”

He chuckles and settles next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “If you’re dead, then I have some serious things to reconsider about myself.”

“I’d like to think you’ve got pretty good taste in dead girls,” she says, snuggling against him.

He shakes his head. “I’d like to think I have good taste in living ones, too.”

“Not sure you’ve got much proof for that conjecture right now.”

“It’ll be better once you’re up.”

“Time to call in my fairy godmother.”

“What, are you Cinderella now?”

“No, I’m the child of diplomats. That comes with its own set of perks.”

–

He’s on a call when his phone buzzes.  Nothing fixes this, the text reads.

He sends her a question mark.

So cold. So tired. Have dress, have appt. Back to bed for now.

That was quick, he responds.

Literal godmother. She’s great. Probably murdered her husband, but we all have our faults.

He reads the text twice to make sure he hasn’t made it up. Can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.

Text has no prosody. Interpret as you will.

He rolls his eyes. Don’t oversleep.

No guarantees.

–

Elizabeth Regan knows she does not fit in here. Here, the women are well dressed, and well made up. They do not look roused from the depth of sleep by a shrieking iPhone and a call from a doting godmother.  John’s sweatshirt stares at her from its place, folded up at the top of her bag, tempting her to slip it back on, or bury her face in it, and go back to bed.

She can’t imagine its owner would be pleased.

Neither would the aesthetician, come to think of it.

She has to admit: she looks good. Her godmother has never led her wrong in almost thirty-two years of life; it’s not like she really expected her to start now. Still, the conversion from sleep-deprived, jet-lagged hobgoblin to presentable, well-appointed project representative would be a tall order for anyone.

She drums newly manicured nails against her phone screen.  Her last text stares back up at her, unanswered.

You’ll see him later, she tells herself. He has work to do.

–

He scrolls through his texts on the way home.  His mother’s sent him pictures of the St. Augustine shoreline, the Colonel’s sent him a small novel’s worth of briefing notes, and Lizzie has sent him her own idea of a masterpiece, a screenshot of the evening’s weather forecast, covered in lime green profanity. He chuckles, and texts her back: That’s XCOM, Lizzie.

–

She clambers into the back of the cab, feeling absurdly overdressed. Her phone buzzes and she looks down, embarrassingly happy for a response.

She snorts and rolls her eyes. Isn’t that what I used to tell you when I missed targets?

–

He realizes Lizzie is home about thirty seconds after stepping out of the shower. He can make out the sounds of padding up the stairs, something bulky in her arms, still wrapped in a winter coat, swearing under her breath.

He chuckles to himself as he grabs his razor. At least she’s awake.

–

She is really beginning to question her career choices. Yes, moving from teaching to consulting had been an exciting decision, one that ultimately freed her from the politics of academia, at least the politics of academia never demanded she wear heels and a dress in fifteen degree weather.

She screws on the earring back, and checks her make up in the mirror. Her lipstick is already fading, but that’s well within her power to correct. There’ll be nothing for her to do when she shows up as a popsicle tonight, though.

–

He’s almost dressed when the knock comes at his door.

“In!” He calls.

“Look,” she says from somewhere behind him. “I hate to offend your good Boy Scout morals, but I need help with a zipper.

“I think my good — Wow.”

She shrugs. “I was only sort of exaggerating on the fairy godmother bit.” She reaches a hand up, rubbing the back of her neck.

“If that’s what you can do on minimal sleep and short notice, I can’t imagine what a well-planned take would look like.”

She blushes. “More like ‘what my godmother did,’ but thanks.” She turns. “Can you do me a favor and zip me up? I don’t have the energy to play contortionist today.”

“Did you eat anything after breakfast?”

“Are you counting the carton of orange juice I downed?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

He sighs and shakes his head but the gesture is lost. He fights the urge to ghost finger tips over bare skin, reminding himself that he is a professional, she is his colleague, and he really really doesn’t need distractions, let alone self-made distractions, on a night like this.

But then again, they’d crossed the just colleagues line not long after they’d met, and had been dancing around just friends for months. In truth, they haven’t been just anything for some time now, and they’re both all too aware of it.

He brings the zipper up and closes the hook and eye.

“I take back my comment from this morning. Cinderella was an understatement.”

She turns and smiles at him. “Let’s just hope I come home with both shoes.”

“Suspect we’ll have a problem if you don’t.”

“Never know. Someone might want an interesting night.”

He slips his jacket over his shoulders, and offers her an arm. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

[whocanirunn2]

ʝυиє 29

I woke up to a text message saying I have 2k being sent for my rent from the connect that Alicia Pitt gave me !!! I didn't think I could get help bc it's a marine organization and I'm Army. But forget my "thoughts" ! Then I saw j had a few emails from my DF. Made me thinking a few things I had not. Then off to my BB dr appointment then I went to check to see how much 1 tire costs. $109! Then I called the vet place & someone answered the phone finally & I asked if I could stop by. She was free & ready! Usually I have to wait. As I was telling her everything DF called so I stepped out & took the call since she was in the phone doing work for me so we talked & I told him the things that have been going on. Then after 10 minutes he had to go. But we still said I love you. We had a big ole argument a few days prior. It was nice to hear his voice for sure! Then I stop at McDonald's to get my BB his first happy meal : 4pc chicken nuggets & fry & apple slices & I got myself nuggets & small fry. We went home to eat & I started applying to places for help. Then I remembered that my tags expire tomorrow! Sheesh! But before that I had to get an emissions test ! So I waited to go after BB took a nap. We went and waited a little. Then came home. I was tired. Then I went to print out my registration to have in the car & I was out of ink so I brought it to the couch so I could type in that part in eBay. Somehow I laid the half empty cartridge on my iPhone and ink soiled it from what I'm guessing. There was ink but only on the sides then DF called and my phone was so choppy & there was a huge delay in him hearing me & I could hear him fine. The phone call just cut out so I called sprint to see my options bc I have been having issues with this phone forever! I had such a nice agent & she gave me 3 options! So I called Apple Store & then went there since pentagon is 10 minutes away. I took a turn too soon & ended up at the Pentagon! So I said ugh but I said oh it's s nice time to take a pic! It was 9pm so no cars were around. I get to the mall & im like shoot I don't know where the elevators are haha i's a momma now! So made an appt for tomorrow & then we left. $2 for parking. Traffic was stopped & my gas light came on. But we made it & my baby went to sleep immediately! I got to see the last 15minutes of my fave show threes company that I watch faithfully every night from 9-10pm. :) today was better! ThankU Lord ∂αу3