A fool for love...

Well, I'm not a fool for love, necessarily, unless you count my love for writing posts. I write so many posts that people don't get the opportunity to comment on them. So, please go to this post for the latest news on the visit with my psychiatrist.

I was planning on going to bed early tonight, but then I couldn't find that email address of that person I was talking about earlier, so I looked through all my older comments until I found one by her and got her email address that way. It was a lot of work and it kept getting later and pretty soon I was past that crucial time of going to sleep. I had stopped yawning and was wide awake again, but it is my experience that writing a post at this time of the night is sleep inducing and that very often I don't even have to finish it before I'm ready to go to bed and can just delete it. Probably that will be the case tonight too.

It was strange to go through those old comments. Of course, I didn't stop and read every one of them, I was just looking for a name, but every once in a while one caught my attention and I read it and was reminded of what it was in reaction to and what I noticed the most is that I went through an awful lot of ups and downs and that they followed each other rapidly. One moment I was okay and the next moment I wasn't. I see now how totally unacceptable that was and how it never should have happened, but how could it have been stopped? I was rapid cycling constantly, it seemed, and somehow I kept on functioning as if that was normal. Well, except for the infamous suicide attempt. I certainly don't want that to happen anymore and expect my moods to be regular now and steady.

I had my 4th cup of coffee, but didn't finish it all. I wish I could find a good decaf and I would drink that instead. I'm going to have to look around at what's available and see if there's a good brand of decaf. Even if it is expensive, it would be worth the money. I like the taste of a cup of Senseo and could easily be fooled by a good cup of decaf. To me that would taste like the real thing and be just as satisfying.

I had momentarily lost my dog and didn't realize he was lying under the desk. I didn't see him anywhere. He is sound asleep and so quiet. When I don't see him, I get a little feeling of panic as I think an accident has befallen him and he is lying somewhere injured, because he's always getting into things. Usually I think he has choked to death on something he has tried to eat that was not edible. It's just like having a toddler in the house. He swallows everything that he thinks is small enough. I just hope it all comes out at the other end. I don't care to look for it specifically to see if it did.

Gandhi is playing it safe and has just about taken up permanent residence on the dining table. Right she is. That pesky dog can't bother her there. She's lying on the open phone book now that I needed yesterday and left out for her, as she seems to think it is comfortable. Anything to accomodate a cat, really.

The cats like their kibbles better from the ceramic bowl than they did from the metal dishes and also prefer their water from a ceramic bowl and it has to be as fresh as possible. That's why I set it in the sink, so new water can be added all the time. Toby still likes water straight from the faucet and Gandhi still prefers cold milk. Don't you love cats that come with an instruction booklet? It makes life interesting. Tyke eats his food from a ceramic dish and drinks his water from a metal bowl and it needs to be refreshed every day at least once. It's a big bowl for a little dog.

I'm sufficiently yawning now, no doubt induced by writing this post, although I hope that reading it will not have the same effect on you. If so, please go to the other more interesting post, or the one before that. Take your pick. I will go put on my PJs now and take my medicines and sit here until I get really drowsy, until I fall of my chair. I'll probably curl up next to Tyke under the desk.

Sleep tight!

Ciao,
Nora