Pilly uses the internet

There I was, over to the facebook, just minding my own business and taking the occasional survey--a good, safe pastime for me--when suddenly I was overcome with the irresistible desire to go google celiac disease.

Oh, relax.  That's nothing new, I often have an irresistible urge to google something that has absolutely nothing to do with actual life and no one knows why I am overcome with a need to know .

I have been overcome with a need to know something so deep it was enough to wake me from a sound sleep and drive me to the computer at three in the morning.  At least now it only happens when I'm awake.  That's an improvement, isn't it?  Yes, it is.

So, anyway, the celiac disease.  I found this great site called diagnose something that promised to give me all the time my doctor won't, on account of the actual doctor is busy, and apparently the herd of doctor's they keep on call over there to the diagnose something site have limitless time to just read crap crazy people send them without even a small break for golf.

No, I don't know why they would have limitless time, how could I know that?  Probably some guy kicked them out of actual medical school or something and this is their idea of revenge.

So anyway it takes like, about four years to answer all the questions, because they keep giving you these windows where you can write in the details and ask stupid questions, and what self respecting hypochondriac could possibly resist a chance to natter on endlessly about their symptoms?

I know I couldn't.

So, anyway, at the very end, after you have told them everything and remarked about how great they are, they tell you that for a small fee of only $55.00 they will be happy to send you their report.Of course, they fail to mention that until after you have already given them your phone number and mailing address.  Even I am not stupid enough to follow that with my credit card number, but even so, they know everything about me now, right down to that birthmark on my butt that is shaped like Canada (if you squint).

So withholding my credit card info at that point is probably not going to slow them down for long.

But, anyway, I would just like to point out that on days when I must skip a dose of Lithium to have labs drawn, perhaps it would be wise if whoever is my keeper of the day denies me access to the Internet.  Just get me set up with a nice game of the Sims (which I will happily obsess over until the baby reaches old age and dies) and just quietly disable the Internet.

I feel it is incumbent upon me to try and help with my care and feeding as much as possible.

Because, believe me, I require some awesome care and feeding.  It takes at least three full time adults just to guarantee I don't sign anything, spend anything, or decide to take flying lessons and order a piper Cub just because I am convinced everyone needs one, or they will never live full, productive meaningful lives.

At least, I am better with the Lithium, but until I reach optimum therapeutic levels (in my case, it is possible that I will die of heavy metal poisoning before I get there) we all agree that I should not make decisions.  In fact, we are pretty sure I should not  even answer the telephone.

I will either
A) agree completely with anyone nice, even up to agreeing to donate large sums of money (which we don't actually have) to a good cause.  Be advised that as long as it benefits dogs or children I am not only sure it is a good cause, I also think it's alright to hold people at gunpoint to make them donate.

Or

B) I disagree and have a tendency to dare the Klan to come and burn a cross on my lawn so that I can jazz up the annual Gay Pride picnic with a really colorful marshmallow roaster, and I have no fear so I sometimes invite them to come and kill me and threaten to shoot them on sight.  Presumably while they're erecting the cross.  Do not even get me started on neo-Nazis.  They don't call me anymore.  I may have killed one, I'm not sure.

So, overall, it's better to keep me off the phone. Keeping me off the porch is good, too.

If you are a Jehovah's Witness or a Mormon, please do not try to save me before June.  One of us is going to have a life changing faith experience of epic proportions if you try that and it probably won't be me.  Just so you know.

So, anyway, it's only four hours until I can return to being safely medicated.  In the meantime,  I am going to quietly play the Sims and let Jacob answer the door.

Probably.