The Voices in My Head

I've mentioned before how I like to talk to myself..

Well, recently, Bean's been working alot, and I've been feeling chatty, so I've been talking to myself enough to give my voices names*.

It's sad, but true.

So far there are only two - Joe and Bonnie.

Joe is the kindof guy who has a girl for a best friend. In fact, his voice sounds oddly like my best friend, Superman. He tells me to stop being girly and analyzes all of Bean's actions when I need him to. He's awesome, and I don't really mind sharing noggin' space with him, expecially since Superman's all busy being a newlywed and stuff.

But Bonnie is annoying as fuck. That girl whines about everything!! She bitches when Bean hasn't texted us recently and she cries hysterically when he doesn't call us twice from work.
She's constantly worried that Bean's going to leave us. She tries to find meaning out of the tiniest little comments. And she's forever moaning about our weight.
The bitch needs therapy, or some cheese or both.


It's a good thing Joe's there to tell her to shut the fuck up.

So the other night I was bitching telling Bean how I missed him while he was at work because I didn't have anyone to talk to.

Me: But I have shit I NEED to say!!

Bean: Is everything ok?

Me: Oh yeah.

Bean: Then why can't it wait until tomorrow?

Me: Because I want to talk. It's ok, I'll just tell Joe.

Bean:??

Me: Nevermind.

I did eventually tell him about Joe, and he didn't really comment (I'm not really sure why), probably because it was early, and I'm a little evil delicate in the mornings.

But we did touch on it another day.

Me: I'm a good wife.

Bean: You had doubts?!?

Me: Not really, but Joe just confirmed it.

Bean: You love Joe more than me.

Sounds like Bonnie has another victim..


*No worries. We don't actually have split personality disorder. We think.

Also, don't forget Fawk You Friday tomorrow.. I finally get to play!!

Barbituates, Bean and Why I'm Sleeping on the Couch Tonight

**DISCLAIMER**
This is actually kind of a gross posting now that I've read through it. So if you don't want to know entirely too much about Bean's bodily functions, you might want to wait until tomorrow**

There's actually at least two reasons I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight - the first is for blogging about this, but you know, Bean didn't specifically tell me not to, so that's just like permission, right??

And the second reason will come later.

Patience my friends.

So, our wonderful date weekend was interrupted (very rudely) by food poisoning (or a stomach bug, or a really convincing psychosematic illness* - but whatever it is, it's not pleasant).

Yup, that's right, in the middle of the night Saturday, Bean started with the vomiting and all that goes along with a stomach something.

He started to feel better on Sunday morning, so we thought that maybe he'd be ok for "Wicked", but then, like clockwork, a few minutes after checkout time, he got even worse.

Now, I'm one of those people that starts gagging the minute I hear someone else doing the same, so being in a hotel room where the other-room-where-I-can't-hear-you options are slim was not pleasant.

I finally got him to let me take him home about 3 hours later, but he was being pretty insistant that I not only go to "Wicked" but that I also use the hotel room and since really there was nothing I could do for him, I did.

I took Oliver and we had a really good time, but that's another post.

Today I went to work and Bean called and asked me to get his prescriptions. No problem.

Yeah, right.

Did ya'll know that they card you now at the pharmacy whenever you get the good drugs?

I found this out when I got out of the hospital and tried to go pick up my vicodin. I had just gotten out of the hospital and Mom wasn't being very motherly and was procrastinating over getting my drugs, so being the passive-agressive bitch that I am, I showed her and went myself.

So I drove my sore, cut up, seriously bloated ass to the pharmacy really wishing that I was picking up something stronger than vicodin and the bitch carded me.

I was still wearing a hospital bracelet and the bitch carded me.

I had to hobble my sore, cut up, seriously bloated and peeved self out to the car and dig through Bean's bag to find my wallet to get my drugs.

Not cool.

Anyway, today I went to get Bean's prescriptions and the same bitch was there and carded me again.

So I'm thinking - Is she doing this because she's a power-hungry bitch and gets off on inconveniencing people or did Bean get some good drugs??

Turns out he got some barbituates.

So if you're anything like me, you're thinking these are sleeping pills, or pain pills maybe.

Nope.

They're anti-gas pills.

Because he has trapped gas.

He just took the pills, and that would be why I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. Because Bean is sometimes a stinky guy without barbituates. With them?? Yeah, I don't imagine it will be pleasant.


*For the record, I don't really think that Bean has a psychosematic illness. I'm not quite that girly. But there is a little voice in my head (we'll call her Bonnie) who likes to whisper things to me about how he happened to get sick in the middle of our romantic weekend.