Bitch is back

Well, I hopped back on my Paxil today. I feel extraordinarily better.

In fact, I was having a grand old day for the most part. Talked to my contact at the CME, talked to a potential new editor, got taken to lunch by a potential J.V. partner, talked to Lady L, and talked to my girl T.

All in all, a fucking fabulous day.

Except …

Yeah. There’s always something.

The notes I made in my personal journal were brief. Three sentences, tops. Damn near fictional in nature, if you didn’t know me.

The drugs will help me to remain calm during the shitstorm. But I don’t think my spunk is going away just yet.

As a matter of fact, minus the weather watch for fan-splattering poo, I was feeling pretty damn good about everything.

I’m not giving up hope that it’s possible to feel good permanently. Or at least for more than, oh, one consecutive day. I just realize that in order to have it, I have to claim it.

And I’m pissing a fucking circle around it when I get it.

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