Moi, A Menendez?

First of all, time for some bitching. I have THE worst, most aggravating mouth sores and inflammation from the chemo. This was def listed as a side-effect, so I'd been doing my preventative measures using special toothpaste, mouthwash, spray etc. Apparently, my offense had nothing on the fucking chemo. My mouth is completely inflamed. It's hard to talk. And unfortunately it feels better when I eat, so I'm shoveling ice cream and Reddi Whip in my mouth like there's no tomorrow. Pretty soon I'm going to be rolling myself into chemo treatments.

I don't think I shared this story with you, but Lay Ann thinks it's one of the funniest ones ever, so even though it makes me look like an evil sociopath, I'll share. Since the Dec. 4 diagnosis and subsequent surgeries, treatments etc., my mom had been staying with me for more than a month. Of course, after a week we were ready to murder each other. Natch, she was just trying to help, but she was an anxious mess, which just frustrated me. I pop Xanax for anxiety. She knits and makes these sighing noises that signify the onset of tears. The woman cries at everything; good news, bad news, commercials, good-byes etc. So for the first couple of weeks the waterworks were nonstop. And the anxiety, my God, she made Woody Allen look chill. So one night early on she was really frustrating me. I think we'd argued about something and I sent her out to CVS cause I needed a breather. Look, it's really difficult when you are completely in control and strong but your family is falling apart. I needed her to snap out of it and be strong, at least when she was around me. I know it's insanely hard for a mother to watch her kid go through this, but 12 years of therapy puts me ahead of the curve, whereas she's more the denial, Pollyanna type.

So, she went out to CVS, and I was just completely at wits end with her and her constant worrying. I ground up one of my Klonopin into a fine powder. There were some leftovers I knew she would nibble at when she got home. I sprinkled half of one into her spaghetti and the other half into some hummus. I think I even left the hummus on the counter, hint hint. Sure enough she came home, we made nice and she later went for the food.

In my defense, the pill was .5 mg total and given the way she eats—like a bird—she probably only ingested .25 mg max. Baby dose. Also, I'd suggested this to my shrink and he didn't have a problem with it. I love my shrink.

Nothing noticeable happened except for the fact that she calmed down and slept very well. Very late the next day. I didn't tell her. It was kind of a blip in the radar given the circumstances of that month.

So when mom and dad were in town and they kidnapped me to go to Jax with them, we stopped in WPB to have lunch with Lynn and Alan. My dad is very impatient. He was getting uber-frustrated and basically throwing a temper tantrum that we had to get off the interstate to get to City Place in WPB. He was behaving like a two-year-old. And it was Lynn's birthday so while he was bitching and moaning, mom and I were telling him to shut the hell up, what did he care what time we got home, it was Sunday. Anyway, by the time he dropped us off—after going the wrong way b/c he didn't listen to me—he was about ready to kill someone. Even after we sat down with our food, he was still bitching. "Relax already," we said. "You're acting like a child."

"Yeah, I'm the one with cancer, so calm down already, or I'll dose you with something to calm you down like I did mom."

"What? What do you mean you dosed me? With what?"

I explained the whole story, which everyone found quite funny. Even mom. Though she did compare me to the Menendez brothers.

I've also dosed em both with some pot brownies of late. They know about it all though. Luckily they're a bunch of old hippies so they don't mind my subversive shenanigans. Dad didn't know I dosed him with the herb at the time, so other lawyers reading this, don't blame him. It was ALL me. Damn straight.

I'm going to do some budget shopping today at Marshalls. Yeah, you heard right. This little princess has been sticking to a strict budget—no shopping, no daily Whole Foods runs. Publix and cooking at home. It's really much more fun and I enjoy being on a budget. I'm actually under budget. (And under-shopped.) Luckily mom's in town Sunday and we'll be at the outlets. I'm long overdue for some retail therapy. And now I can buy shit that doesn't require a bra. Yipee!