I wrote a post not long ago about how I’ve been trying, REALLY trying, to lose weight. I mentioned that my doctor and I agreed to use a metabolism booster since my body seemed “stuck” (to put it in the simplest terms possible). It’s been two weeks, and I know it’s doing it’s job. And THEN some.
Let’s just say these pills are better off being called “Testy Pills”. I think Mister has a very different name for them. Taking them really contradicts my normally good-natured disposition. I seem to be constantly annoyed be every little thing nowadays. Apparently I’m also snapping at Mister. A lot. I didn’t realize it until the other day when I mentioned to him, “I think this pill makes me feel irritable.” His immediate response was a very loud, “You THINK?!” Apparently “testy” really is not the right word. But, he did follow that up with letting me know he understands this is not how I am, this is not how I want to behave, and we both know why I’m even taking them.
I’ve been annoyed at the ADD-like effect this gives me. I have a much greater empathy for those diagnosed with it. I get really frustrated that I want to get something done, but then I can’t finish it because I’m already focusing on doing something else. Even sitting here typing this is annoying for me because I want to get this blog post done, but I can’t seem to focus on it properly. I’ve rewritten it twice now. *sigh* I’ve actually been meaning to write this one for over a week, but it has just seemed like it would take too much time to sit down and type it.
I am more impatient than ever now. While we were shopping today I wanted to ram the cart into some lady who cut me off. I also wanted to smack the elderly women in the store taking up the entire aisle while looking at a something on the shelf. Normally people who do that still annoy me, but I’ll patiently wait and then smile as I pass them. But not today. Today, I had this incredible urge to grab the nearest item and chuck it at her while yelling at her “MOVE IT, LADY!!” Actually, I didn’t use those nice words inside my head. I had better ones for her. Obviously, I restrained myself from doing any of that since I’m sitting here typing this and Mister is not bailing me out of jail.
I’m doing fairly well at keeping the irritability under control. The fact that Mister has come back into the house, interrupted me twice while I’ve been focused on this, and each time I was able to stop and smile at him, is a testament to how well I’m keeping it under control. I am happy that I only have another two weeks of this. I’m sure Mister is a lot more anxious for that time to pass and is counting down the days. I have definitely seen some progress with the weight-loss, so at least it is working. I do have to admit to being very concerned about how I’ll feel after I stop taking these. I stopped drinking coffee, for obvious reasons, but I may end up having “four cup” coffee mornings after this is over. Or maybe I’ll start sleeping. A lot. Either way, Mister is going to want his nice Missy back, and not this psychotic, almost homicidal killer of rude-women-shopping-in-grocery-stores.
(Make that four interruptions now, but who’s counting)
Keeping the dash interesting (from my perspective anyway)
P.S. I would be very remiss if I did not make note of the fact that directly after I finished writing this and went with Mister to pick up the kids we had what we’ll call a discussion. Mister asked a question and I answered. Mister then asked if I was feeling “testy”. Now, maybe I’m the *only* woman in the world who gets her back up at that, but that comment was rather, er…. provocative. I really wasn’t being testy with my response, I was nowhere near that, but Mister repeated that I was not “being myself”. And after THAT, I went from perceived testiness to actual testiness.
I only write this to say that [while I did not acknowledge this in our resulting discussion] I realized later he probably was right. (Do you know how hard that is for me to say? VERY hard.) I really didn’t mean to be harsh, sharp, testy or whatever with him. But, I’m thinking that this medicine is not bringing out my bestest, brightest, and shiniest qualities. I think he may have intimated that, but I’m sure it got lost between thoughts of “I am NOT being testy” and “not being myself? REALLY?!” So, while I oh-so-nicely (ha!) insisted that I was completely fine as he was insisting that I wasn’t, I might have overlooked the fact that the medicine has indeed made me testy AND sensitive. I have to do a mea culpa here and say he is the one more likely to be correct given the current circumstances. And once again, I must put out in the internet world (where it lasts forever) that he was right and I was wrong. Ugh.