I love reading online journals; it's fun, it's a great way to waste time, and once in a while I stumble upon something useful. In this entry today I read about "brain shivers," flashes of dizziness caused by SSRI withdrawal. Over the past few months, one certain days I've felt dizzy on and off -- strange short spasms of vertigo, over quickly, but strong. It was odd, because the dizziness wasn't accompanied by nausea, and I didn't have a cold; in fact I felt otherwise perfectly fine. I had no real explanation for it. Now, of course, I look back and realize my on-and-off dosage of Prozac was probably to blame. I've gotten out of the habit of taking it, so I don't remember every day. I know there have been weeks when I've remembered the pill only once or twice. I'm trying to work up to a small but regular dosage, maybe 5 mg a day. I've toyed with the idea of quitting altogether, but I'm not sure I want to give up the safety net completely.
I feel better knowing there may be an explanation for the dizziness. Other than a brain tumor, which is what I was half-convinced I had.
Sometimes it seems that every online journal writer is on antidepressants. Well, that's hyperbole, of course -- but we do seem to be a medicated bunch.
We're settling into a routine already. Around midnight, I grab a book, draw a bath, close the bathroom door and read in the steam for a while. It's good to get away for a few minutes, give each other some space. It's a fairly small apartment, and while there are four distinct rooms, well, there are still only four rooms.
A good deal of the chatter on Diary-L today was about unplanned pregnancies and responsibility. It got me thinking about my own sense of responsibility. I don't know too many people who are completely irresponsible or very, very responsible. Most people I know fall somewhere in the middle, with weak points and strong points. My weak point is money.
I went to the bank today to check my balance and got a shock: I have about $300 less than I thought I would. To put it another way, I have exactly $29 for the week. I knew I was going to come up short -- paying for two rents in September, plus chipping in for the security deposit, buying 6 months of municipal parking, and various other moving expenses is enough to wipe me out. I don't make that much money. I didn't expect, however, to be wiped out this much. My bank's server in New Jersey was down during Floyd, which may have held up a few withdrawals I made, giving me a false sense of cash cushion.
My problem is, I just can't get it together long enough to keep track of everything I spend. I'm scatterbrained when it comes to cash, and while I never land myself in really hot water, a couple of times a year I end up with a situation like this, forced to sustain myself for a week on ramen noodles and Budweiser. (Yes, beer is a necessary part of my diet. And yes, I like good beer better than Bud, but the 30-can pack for $12.99 is quite affordable.)
It's not because I have expensive taste. I have an old car, a very cheap stereo. I don't mind shopping at Ames for just about anything I need. I don't need to impress people with a collection of yuppie stuff. I don't get the new-expensive-trendy-car-as-status-symbol thing. I'd rather get a life, thank you.
No, it's just an unfortunate lack of interest in my own finances that gets me into trouble. And every time I get into trouble, I make a vow to be better. Every time I have a $30 week, I think: now this will teach me. From now on I'll record every transaction in my little register, I'll balance the checkbook, I'll diligently watch what I spend. And I do, for about two days. Then I slip back to my old habits.
