Dancing At The Zombie Zoo

I’m not done mourning Tom Petty and stole one of his lyrics for this blog post title. It works though. Well, it works as well as any of my blog post titles.

This one is going to take a while. It’s both painful to listen to his music and impossible to not listen to his music. I have thought about things I haven’t considered in years while listening to Damn The Torpedoes this morning. It hurt and it felt good. I am coming around to accepting that I will always have everything of Tom Petty that I have ever had. I am sorry he’s gone. I am sad for his family, but literally nothing changes for me. I can wrap myself in his music all I want until I am no longer here. No matter how much I tell myself this, I know it will be a long time before his music doesn’t make me at least a little sad. I still get sad listening to the Clash sometimes and Joe Strummer has been gone for nearly 15 years. 

Anyway, last week was brutal.

Work was difficult, but mostly it was my brain in full on attack mode. My brain tortured me in a way I haven’t had to endure for a few years. The last time was due to an issue with my medicine. I don’t think that is the case now, but I have to make sure.

This coming week has the potential to make me pine for last week. Cross your fingers for me. Or maybe sacrifice a goat. I don’t want to ask too much, though.

I had to see my doctor last week which was a pinpoint of light in some soupy darkness.

I didn’t have time to leave work early any day last week, but when your anxiety medication needs a refill, priorities get shifted. No way I am functioning on my own until at least mid November. Probably won’t be until 2018.

My insurance is shit, but does pay for one physical a year, so instead of paying for a visit just to get refills, I booked the appointment for a physical.

I love my doctor. I never have to wait past my appointment time and he always makes me laugh.

The nurse took my vitals and asked me a few questions about depression. I answered okay, but it was all I could do to keep from breaking down. This one has been bad, you guys. She left the room and said the doctor would be right in. And he was, I love the “no waiting forever” thing at this practice.

He asked me a few typical questions.

He looked in my ears and throat and hit my knees with the little tomahawk thingy. He had me lay down so he could push on my stomach.

Doc: Have you had a tetanus shot lately?

Me: Yeah, you gave me one last year.

Me: You said it was the new kind that didn’t hurt and it did too.

Doc: Needles always hurt a little.

Me: No dude, like my muscle ached for days.

Doc: Really? Those new tetanus shots aren’t supposed to hurt.

Doc: Oh. You know, maybe I gave you the anthrax shot.

Me: Yeah, that’s it. I forgot to tell you that I died. I’m a zombie now.

Doc: That explains you not having a heartbeat. I thought it would be rude to mention it.

Me: Maybe you shouldn’t store the tetanus and the anthrax next to each other.

Doc: They’re all clear liquid. I can’t tell them apart.

He got on his computer and refilled my prescriptions and congratulated me on my weight loss.

Doc: Okay, you’re good. While you’re here, do you want some medical advice?

Me: Might as well.

Doc: Eat healthy food and exercise.

Me: Revolutionary.

Doc: And don’t do drugs. Be like Nancy Reagan.

Me: Dead?

Doc: Just say no.

I spent a lot of time last week painting my cedar chest.

Joey and Randy have contributed and we got a lot further than I thought we would. It looks like at least a couple pieces of furniture will be getting painted before the winter passes us by. When they are done, I’m opening a zombie daycare, because I’m pretty sure that would be the only place this furniture wouldn’t look out of place.

HAHAHAHA. I don’t care about that at all. One of the best things about getting older is not giving two fucks what people think about your shit.

So, here I go. I’m diving in. I have no idea what my next post will be, but I’m super hopeful that I get some relief between now and then.

About those goat sacrifices….if it’s not too much to ask.





Add your comments below. Profanity is encouraged, but not required. ;)
  1. Marcia says:

    Love the chest! And your doctor.

  2. Rena says:

    I would leave a comment but I’m chasing down a fucking goat!

  3. Harry says:

    The chest is great.

    I’ve been thinking about Tom Petty and his music a lot this week, too. More his music than him, actually, since I didn’t know him.

  4. Donna says:

    A) LOVE the cedar chest!
    B) I’ve been having anti-anxiety med issues this week too. Stupid meds. Stupid biology. I think I’ll eat ice cream this week instead. Calorically risky but I’m certain Chunky Monkey’s more effective.
    C) I live on the coast. We usually sacrifice razor clams and mussels over a flaming pyre. This generally works pretty good AND, bonus, we can dine on the sacrificial bivalves afterward.

  5. Roxanne says:

    I think you could have a new career as an artist, painting chests like the one you’re working on. Wow! P.S. And your doctor sounds like a hot shit. I’m glad you found him.

    • Michelle says:

      Thank you! Haha..it’s a little primitive. I’m not a precise person. My mother and both of my sisters are AMAZING artists. I just draw lines and color. 🙂

  6. Paula says:

    I don’t know if I am highly co-dependent (which I am) or I am just bat shit crazy (is that term reserved for the crazy-in-chief?) It seems like my life is shadowing yours. I am going to the doc this week for stomach issues. I have no idea what is going on but it is being bad. I haven’t started paint furniture yet but yours is awesome. I think I will be better when next weekend it over. My granddaughter is having her Bat Mitzvah next Saturday. I am a wreck. I am not Jewish and have never gone to one of these. She is doing the 2 hour service in Hebrew which scares me to death. I can’t decide what to wear, don’t want to be around her mother (my son divorced her 11 years ago for a good reason) and her family. I know we are going to be judged. There are only a few people who do this to me and they are one group. I know, I know fuck them…but gee…. I know first world problems….

    • Kate says:

      Oh, Paula. Been there, done that. Do not envy you.

      Game face. Think about HRC having to sit in the rain watching Trump take the oath of office. If she can get through THAT, you got this. I started reading her book, and, once again, was appalled at the indignities and allegations she had to smile through.

      A mild sedative helps, too. Or alternate nostril breathing?

    • Michelle says:

      Hey, that sounds super stressful. I wouldn’t like that, either! Anxiety could be part of the problem. I have literally had a stomach ache since I was around 8 years old. It’s just degrees. I hope the Bat Mitzvah goes well and with minimal interaction from the ex’s family. I will send you some good ju ju.

  7. Connie says:

    Love the chest and your doctor sounds really cool (can I be jelly?, mine is weird). ( Can I use the word jelly even though I’m old?)
    Hope you feel better soon. You deserve kindness.

    • Michelle says:

      I do love my doctor and you can be jelly all you want! It can be a jellyfest all day, every day. My feeling is, I got through this many years, I will say what the fuck I want to say.

  8. Haralee says:

    It is the neighbor’s goat, but it is the thought right!
    Sounds like a great doctor. If you can’t marry him, keep him.

  9. Michelle says:

    i so love those eyeballs. my husband just came in and tossed a new eyeball-covered coffee mug at me. i wish i had a doctor like that. my last one was an unethical fuckwad.

    • Michelle says:

      That sucks about your stupid doctor! And I love eyeballs, too. I don’t know why. But when I doodle, there are always at least one or two eyeballs in there.

  10. Shani says:

    I still wrap myself in Prince’s music. I love the chest. It’s really cool! Your doctor is much better than my doctor. And that’s not a grass is greener thing that is my doctor is an idiot thing.
    I can’t sacrifice a goat because my sappy heart would look into the goat’s eyes and decide to take care of it. But I hope this week is better for you! I just popped a Xanax myself so hopefully it will be better for all of us all around.

    • Michelle says:

      I swear to christ I have never needed my prescription more than now. I usually just need to have it with me and that’s enough, not always, but a lot. Now? As prescribed. And they aren’t even making me tired cause I’m so keyed up.

      Here’s to peace for both of us.

  11. Kate says:

    We are on the brink of some revelation. I feel it in my bones, and so do most of us who are the least bit empathic, and that is certainly true of you, Michelle. Greatest strengths can be our greatness weaknesses, so they say.

    I just read a quote this morning that keeps popping up throughout the day. “I can’t go on. I will go on.” Samuel Beckett. Cant recall if that is in HRC’s book, or I read it elsewhere, but it resonates.

    People may scoff, but focused meditation/prayer can be powerful. Your followers are with you on this journey, Michelle. Positive vibes, and a symbolic goat sacrifice, on the way!

    And thanks to you for continuing to write with humor and compassion about yourself and the world, in spite of the shitstorm going on in your head right now.

    • Michelle says:

      OMG thank you so much for this. I will cling to these good thoughts. Today wasn’t horrible. But it will probably be okay until at least Thursday, which can go downhill pretty fucking quick.

  12. Doug in Oakland says:

    I read an article about Tom Petty and the confederate flag yesterday that really made me like him a lot, as a human being. Seems he wrote a song for the album “Southern Accents” that had a character who he represented with the confederate flag, and when they toured on the album, they used confederate flag imagery to promote it.
    He says that it didn’t take long in that tour to realize he’d made a mistake.
    Then, a couple of years later, someone threw a confederate flag onstage during a show, and he stopped everything long enough to tell the crowd that it wasn’t OK to do that, and that he’d made a stupid mistake using it in the first place. He said there were a few boos, but he never saw another one at a show after that.
    He said it never would have happened had he paid more attention to it in the first place, but growing up in Gainesville, that flag was kind of like wallpaper, and he didn’t really think much about it. Then he said all you have to do is think of what a black person sees when they look at that flag and you’ll know it’s not OK.
    I hope you get a handle on your anxiety really soon. One of my favorite political bloggers has been advising self-care for everyone in the trenches, to counter what she describes as the “legislative terrorism” of having to scramble for contingency plans in case her children lose their health insurance.
    Having a doctor who you can actually talk to is awesome.
    I like the chest you’re painting. Perhaps many beautiful pieces of art will find their way into existence as a result of the reign of Fergus.
    How’s that for an optimistic take on things?

  13. Julie says:

    I read your post early this morning before caffeine, then came back tonight to comment. The title caught my eye – I’m a Tom Petty fan, too, and am just so sad. Love your doctor & the painting on the chest. No goats needed, just keep laughing and putting one foot in front of the other.

  14. mydangblog says:

    I’m jealous of your doctor. Mine is free (Canadian) but the only time he seems interested in me is when I have my feet in the stirrups. THEN he wants to make small talk. Me, not so much.

  15. Onlyme says:

    So, when I lived in New Orleans, which I did for 30 years, there was a group of young artists (called the Ya-Ya artists) who painted chairs, old chairs, all these bright, whimsical colors and designs. You are totally channeling the Ya-Ya artists. Your hope chest is beautiful. I think you should absolutely do some chairs next.
    As for Tom Petty, it feels like all the good ones are leaving us, and it makes me so sad. All I hope is that Dylan lives forever.

    • Michelle says:

      Ya-Yas!!!! I LOVE it. We have a table and two bookcases lined up after this one. It soothes me. But my pink marker fucking broke and I’m kinda pissed about that because now I have to either wait for amazon to send me a new one, or I have to go to the craft store. I hate going to the craft store. The check out is always super slow and there are always tons of people there. People are the worst.

  16. The chest is a real eye full. To paraphrase something I just heard, ladies, gentlemen, spiny-headed looking creatures, that is Slayer Chest 2017.
    Now it’s time to sacrifice a zombie goat for you.

  17. Your doctor sounds cool, I thankfully don’t pay to see a doctor if I had to pay I wouldn’t go as often as I do

  18. Val says:

    Jelly!!! I’m jelly too; it’ll match my gelatinous backfat & the cascading shelves of my abdomen…
    (Any insights into weight loss success? After minor success limiting ye olde carbs, I lost 25 lbs but have another 25 to go – lack of dedication, I know!)
    But I’ve gotta find myself a new MD, hopefully one as cool & as respectful of my time as yours…

  19. Lisa K says:

    I only go to surgeons, these days… specialty ones, at that!
    I like that yours was hesitant to mention the missing heartbeat… didn’t want to give you something new to worry about… a true healer.
    And your line drawings and ‘Picasso-feel’ painting style is delightful… both soothing and questioning reality at the same time.
    I’m no critic, but I felt little hiccups of happy when I saw the eyeballs and fleur-de-lis paisley stuff going on….
    Brave colors!
    Bold geometrics!
    Very aesthetic flow for the goat sacrificing in all of us 😉
    Survival rate is still 100%!
    Yay, You <3

  20. I’m so sorry you’re struggling right now. If I had a goat I would at least make some sacrificial cheese but I’m fresh out of goats and I still like my dog, despite her inability to make cheese (slacker). Your hope chest looks incredible…..I think it is amazing that you took a gift from an idiot of an ex and repurposed it into something so much better – more, alive, colorful with some whimsy……there may be a metaphor in there somewhere my little butterfly. Just keep flying.

  21. emelle says:

    Your doctor is the best. Does he also practice in North Hollywood, California? I wanna get my physicals there!