author of Karma On Ice

Life at the Apple Insane Asylum (name has been changed because I like receiving a check) has NOT been an easy one for me.  When I was first placed here I had no clue that I was being thrown into the nut house.  But midway through that fateful day I realized something in the milk wasn’t clean.  The other patients? Wow! That’s pretty much the only word I can use to describe how I feel about them.  More than one of these mofo’s had definitely flew over the damn cuckoo cuckoo’s nest. 

 As I happily walked into the Apple I was first introduced to “Brush” (names will be changed to protect their insanity).  Now I could have called her many things, for she was not an attractive woman.  But what stuck out the most (or perhaps stood up) was her hair.  Clearly they had not allowed her to have toiletries such as a brush, because her hair had not been combed at all.  Now this could have been a fluke, so a benefit of the doubt was given since I was in a happy mood.  “Brush” walked me through the corridors and I saw many sad faces silently screaming at me for help.  She placed me in what seemed like a normal dormitory of old biddies.  I was actually enjoying the fact that my space was not being shared with young rowdy people. Little did I know young people would have been much better.

 My cell mate who was immediately coined “Peggy Peter Bareback Mountain” (she was rocking a Peggy Bundy hair do, had a chin like Peter Griffin, and that big glorious back of hers) started talking to me.  Not just regular talk, constant non stop BS talk.  In my first few hours at the Apple I learned pretty much all her business.  I tried to tune her out, but she wasn’t having it.  She took the time to introduce me to her friend, the old biddy in the next cell.  When I say “why Lawd why?” I mean it from the depths of my soul.

 Talking to the old hag, who I have grown to love/hate and affectionately call OHM (off her meds), gave me an extreme head ache.  She was clearly that very first bird that got over the nest.  Every day she takes a series of cocktailed medicines and world beware if she was in a funky mood and decided to skip them.  I spoke to her kindly and in return she growled at me. Not a growl as to say hi! But a growl more like an animal who is trying to guess if you are friend or foe.  Slightly taken a back by her respond I watched as she punched herself in the head with a low mumbled “pay me no mind I can be stupid at times”.  That should have been my first clue to RUN RUN FAST AS I CAN!  Like a dummy I stayed and two years later I am still feeling like a dummy.  I have to free myself from the memories of shocked treatment that I received at the AIA.  This is soooo not fiction, this is my life!  One weekday at a time………..

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Comments on: "Welcome to the Apple Insane Asylum" (1)

  1. Woooooooow…lmao @ “Brush”. I have one of those at work too. I call her Puffy…her hair always looks bouffantish lol

    OHM scares me!

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