“OH WE’RE SORRY. YOUR INSURANCE DOESN’T COVER LITHIUM UNLESS IT’S MAIL ORDER. HAHAHAHAHA”
eat my ass i will pee on everything you love.
I finally made the call to the insurance supported med delivery bullshit place, gonna call my doctor tomorrow and ask her to fax my scripts to them, then cross my fingers and pray that nothing interesting can be made out of lithium and latuda like… hyper death meth or super crack, so I can get it out of my mailbox without being shot or mugged.
THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA I AM SO GLAD WE INVENTED MAIL ORDERING IMPORTANT CHEMICALS THROUGH STANDARD SHIPPING. TRULY, WE ARE THE SMARTEST SPECIES.
im pretty sure my shitty little dog could run an insurance agency better.
So guess what I’ve been dealing with? The assumption that my coworkers are talking about me behind my back and hate me, and that they are conspiring against me. That’s stupid, right? That’s so stupid-
Until it feels super actually really true, and you can hear them laughing as you walk back inside because you wore your welder shirt today and because you operate the robot you’re not a real welder so they think you’re just some dumb ugly poser and no one likes you and your friend doesn’t talk to you anymore because you’ve only got that one friend and your doctor is just being paid to be nice to you and probably doesn’t give a shit because she sees like 18 billion people like whatever who cares.
If I wasn’t a mentally unstable wreck with high taste in alcohol I’d drink the rest of the Christian Brothers Brandy to wash down my ambien. As it is, I cleaned my house, scooped the litter, fed the pets and put real food in my face that wasn’t bought from a vending machine.
I feel like I deserve money for waking the fuck up today.