Highlight: “Sheep are extremely tasty creatures whose different species vary in size, appearance, color, and of course, tastiness!”
I Am Actually EATING SHIT for a Living!!!

Yes, there’s no denying that if I am offered to eat shit for a living, I would actually consider the possibility rather than refuse straight out! Why? Just take a look at the shit I do. Or rather than the shit I do… the shit I’m taking!
This is a continuation of part I of this story: Am I Actually EATING SHIT for a Living?
So I took the 200mg of Seroquel bravely, with the thought of DO YOUR WORST ringing clearly against the Seroquel in my head. It wasn’t easy. At all. Here’s how.
I am engaged, and the night I got manic, I had an occasion; my fiance’s family was visiting my mother’s family for a lavish dinner and a get together. The whole time I was exercising massive willpower to stay silent and not do anything stupid. I was waiting for a phone call from my doctor. I screamed to him that 50mg of Seroquel wasn’t doing anything and that I’m on the verge of hospitalization and losing my job (where the folks don’t even know I’m bipolar or they wouldn’t have hired me in the first place). At 8pm I received his order to add 200mg of Seroquel to my cocktail of Haldol and Lamictal. All I had to do was go down to the pharmacy and get the drugs WITHOUT A PRESCRIPTION.
Thankfully, almost ALL drugs in Egypt are OTC. The only things that require prescription are the heavy psycho-active stuff and not even softies are prescription only. Example: all you need for Xanax is a nice friendship with the pharmacist!
Anyway, I bought a “tape” of Seroquel 200mg and in front of the pharmacist, took one, along with the rest of the stuff. Taking it in front of him turned out to be a fatal mistake. I’ll show you why in a minute. Meanwhile…
I went back upstairs and the feast was served. Delicious grilled and fried whole turkey surrounded with yellow basmati rice, juicy lamb in vegetable sauce, fresh vine leaves stuffed with rice and minced meat, and cold meat loaf, not to mention the accessories like saute, salad, rice, macaroni and friggin all the Egyptian foods I can think of were on the table. Yum!
Here’s the funny part: I was on a diet so I decided to just east some of the various meats and salad.
“Sheep are extremely tasty creatures whose different species vary in size, appearance, color, and of course, tastiness!”
I remember that quote by heart from the encyclopedia of Civilization V.
God bless this sheep!
My head was gradually feeling heavy. My shoulders began to fall, my back was getting relaxed. I could barely open my eyes, and a few minutes later, my head was feeling like a ton. I thanked God that the driver was in my parked car outside. All I had to do was make it to the car.
“Thank you for the delicious meal everyone, and to Kairos’ (my fiance’s pen name) family, thank you very much for honoring us with this visit” I announced, smiling. And when I tried to get up, I wished I hadn’t.
With massive difficulty, I got up from the table. My legs felt like rubber. Would it be an exaggeration if I say that I had a less chance of success making it to my car in one piece (3 flights of stairs) than I would have if I were playing pool with rope instead of a stick? Because I would have rather played rope- err I mean pool with rope- than walk to my car in this condition, wait for more of the seroquel to be absorbed in my stomach for ten more minutes, then climb 3 flights of stairs to my apartment.
What happened is this: I somehow made it to my grandmother’s bedroom. She has two single beds in her room. I picked the bed she leaves for guests, somehow took my shoes off, and practically fainted into a deep, deep sleep, leaving my fiance’s family alone with my grandmother’s family, leaving my phone alarmless when I was supposed to wake up at 6 am the following day to drive my boss to Alexandria.
I never did.
Oh god, can’t see what happens next. I was simultaneously laughing (boyfriend has done the same with our families!) and having sympathy pains.
Mad romance? That reminds me of that movie, Mad Love, for Drew Berimore. Wonder if that’s where you got the idea. Anyway, does that mean you’re not bipolar but it’s your bf? Thanks for reading btw.
I wrote my thesis paper for University on the mental illnesses that influenced Romantic period poets, and that’s where I got the name. That is correct, my boyfriend is bipolar, but I am not. Absolutely, I was happy to see more posts from you!
I wrote my thesis paper for University on the mental illnesses that influenced Romantic period poets, and that’s where I got the name. That is correct, my boyfriend is bipolar, but I am not. Absolutely, I was happy to see more posts from you!
I remember you now. Recognized the books in your blog. I do follow you after all. I got such a case of amnesia! Anyway, you should totally see Mad Love, but in this one, it’s the girl that’s–possibly–bipolar.
It’s cool. I don’t remember people half the time after meeting them face to face ^.- Sounds interesting. I’ll have to check it out.
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