I've had a tummy ache all day.

So I didn't go to work.

Luckily, I still have some of my medication left over from when I had pneumonia (during Pneumonia Break): ic prochlorperazine and ondansetron. One of them is for nausea.

My hospital doctor, who is young and handsome, prescribed me the first one (ic prochlorperazine) for the migraines I was experiencing during Pneumonia Break.

But my primary care physician, who is neither young nor handsome but has the sweetest staff of any doctor's office east of the Mississippi, did not agree that I should take ic prochlorperazine.

So when the nausea first hit me this morning, I couldn't decide between the instructions of Grey's-Anatomy-like doctor or regular-like doctor. 

I Googled 'prochlorperzine' (without the 'ic') and I discovered that it is used to treat symptoms of schizophrenia and strong or inappropriate emotions. 

I got really excited and immediately took the ic prochlorperzine.* Then I noticed the 'ic' part and re-Googled. It turns out that ic prochlorperzine is just used to treat nausea and vomiting. 

So I've been in a bad mood all day ever since I found out that bit of internet information. However - I have a peace of mind for today and I will share it with you:

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*Yes, I got momentarily excited about the possibility of getting schizophrenia.** 

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**Yes, I did believe and hope that I would somehow magically get schizophrenia from taking what I thought was medication to treat schizophrenia.***

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***Yes, I know this is wrong (even though it feels so right).

Disclaimer: 
This is not a humor blog. 
This is my journal on the enemies I make in this miracle called life.  

That said.

A girl from my hometown and I occasionally ride the train together to work. Only by chance though - definitely not on purpose. What ends up happening is, she tells me about her problems. In particular, about the guy she currently has on-and-off-again relations with. And I do my part - I listen attentively and try to provide words of support. Even though I can tell the guy’s a doosh and a loser. Mostly a loser. 

They’re back in their off state and have been for a couple weeks now.

A couple weeks ago, this girl invited me to go with her to an NBA game because she could no longer go with her on-and-off-again guy. And like a dumbass, I accepted. Because I felt bad that she was suddenly without a date. Even though watching basketball bores me and this girl is obviously going to be a bummer the whole time, moping over her at-present-off-guy.

My plan was to be optimistic and, as a back-up, drink a lot of beer at the game to get through it.

This girl and I were on the same train again today. She asked me, other than the couple of friends she’s heard me talk about hanging out with, what else I do on the weekends. I told her what you already know, that I mostly spend my time with old people and children, or I spend my free time by myself.

She went berserk. Her eyes got all wide. “That’s NOT good. You should be spending your time with other people.”

Instantly, I was washed over with regret. 

I simply answered, “BUT -- I like spending time with myself [unlike you].”

Her:  Oh, r-right-right. Hey, you know, if that’s what works for you. So you mentioned you have a blog a while back?

Suddenly, I’m an acceptable person again. 

You already know how this goes:  I still have to go to the game with this girl. 

Please. Beer me now so I can get a head start.