I was right...

I was right, now that I'm sufficiently well aligned with the sun and the moon and the stars and all the other objects in the great wide world and universe, and I did indeed take two Welbutrin tablets this morning, but I feel good and not at all like the sad little woman that I have been during the day and who couldn't find any joy in her life to wrap around herself for comfort.

What an amazing thing this is, and so unexpected too, because I was already dreading the effect of the first tablet and having to sit here feeling sad and downhearted and ending up having to go back to bed because of this effect of it. I certainly didn't think that I would sit here having a good time writing posts and reading blogs and leaving comments. I guess my psychiatrist was right and the one who perseveres wins. He apparently knew what he was talking about. I had to bite through the sour apple, as they say. That's different from tasting sour grapes or getting your just desserts.

I was ready to call it quits, I was so out of patience, but now I'm glad I didn't and that I listened to and obeyed the professionals. Obedience is not my strongest point usually. I have a tendency to be stubborn and want things my own way, because at any given moment I will be convinced that I'm right and it's hard to change my mind. But I know this about myself and try to take it into account when these sort of things become important and decisions have to be made. My stubbornness can make me shortsighted and I lose track of the bigger picture and the details that go into it. It's important that I pay attention and listen well.

I'm just now having my third cup of coffee of the day. I don't know if you could call it a mug. It's on the small side for what Americans would call a mug. My daughter brought me a mug from Starbucks once and it really qualified as a mug. Two people could have easily had their coffee from it together. If they liked each other a lot, like lovers do. Do you hear that song in your head? I can't imagine liking anyone else that much again. I would worry about his germs. Besides, you would have to like the same things in your coffee and people either like it black or with milk and sugar, never just with milk.

I once accidentally put sugar in my coffee and couldn't figure out why it tasted so bad. The sugar was from one of those paper tubes that also held the creamer. I had picked it up along with the creamer, thinking I had two creamers, because that's what I always put in. I didn't finish that coffee, it was impossible. Since I've stopped eating porridge, I have a bag and a half of sugar on the kitchen shelf that's not going anywhere fast, because I don't use it for anything else. The Exfactor takes it in his coffee and that is it.

I was growing chubby from the porridge with sugar, although I kept saying to myself that it was healthy food. Lord, I did fool myself. I have kilos of porridge to get rid off. Not that I'm lying awake about this at night. I like sleeping better. I don't worry about my weight. I am just me, however I am built. The essence of me doesn't change and my mental health is more important. That's what it's all about in the end. I do have to get my priorities straight, but I'm not going to eat that bag and a half of sugar.

Tyke is completely distracting me. He had two rawhide bones, but he wanted me to try and get the one he had in his mouth, which I did for a while, but then I got the one that was lying on the floor and said, "It is mine." He can't stand it when I say that, so he had to drop his bone and get the one I had. We went on and on like this for a while until he got sick of it and laid down and started chewing on the bone he had in his mouth and that was the end of the game. It will start again in a while, I just know it.

No, instead of that I let him out again and when we were on the field there was another American cocker who is almost 3 years old. It's a female and she came over and challenged Tyke and then ran away and acted bitchy whenever he got close and he likes her so much. He wants to play with her badly and she won't do it and snarls at him. I feel sorry for Tyke, because he needs another dog to play with, but so far we're not having any luck, except for the neighbors' dog and he's never out when we are and I don't know them very well. She doesn't seem to like me and avoids me if she can. He is very friendly and always ready for a chat. Strange, isn't it? (he likes pudgy women and she's lost a lot of weight)

Things to ponder over in my spare time. I try not to ponder too much and to put a stop to it if it gets out of hand. I have an attic in my head where I keep those things and it's not all that full really, just dusty. No cobwebs, though. It's a fairly clean and uncluttered attic with a view of the sea. I have a treasure chest too. That's for very special people. The jewels in my life.

I can postpone hitting the publish button or get it over and done with, because I really have nothing more to say, or I could sit here for another hour and add another chapter. I must figure out the pictures that should head the post. Why don't I just go do that now?

Have a good evening.

Ciao,
Nora