My second cup of coffee...

I will not drink my second cup of coffee with the same eagerness that I drank my first cup of coffee. It is too bitter for that. As a  mater of fact, I can't wait to have my first tall glass of cold milk. But I will finish the coffee first. I'm committed to it. 

I obviously didn't eyeball the ground coffee correctly when I scooped it into the filter. I still don't have it down to a science. It's still a hit and run business with the result that sometimes I have awfully weak coffee, but more often a very bitter one. The mouth puckering kind that wakes you up instantly. 

I don't mind being wide awake in the middle of the night because I know I will go to sleep again eventually. I just can't finish what's in the pot that I so enthusiastically made. I have to stop drinking it before I get too wired. That's why drinking the milk is good. It will put me in a stupor again. 

Speaking of stupors reminds me of the fact that I haven't seen my psychiatrist in a couple of months. I actually had forgotten about him and don't think about going to have a talk with him about anything. I suppose I don't feel the need to and that can only be good. He renews my medications once a month, but I'm not in direct contact with him about them. I suppose he thinks that no news is good news. And it is. 

I'm not so helpless that I wouldn't know how to find him if there was a need. I have good contact with my new therapist and I know she keeps him up to date. Nothing really earth shattering is happening in my life. I can deal with the few problems I run into with a little bit of help. I solve a lot on my own. I have learned a lot. As long as my life stays as simple as it is now, I can handle it. 

I've gotten sleepy from drinking the milk and I'm going back to bed to finish my night's rest. I've already started to yawn. 

I hope you'll all have a good day.

Ciao,

Nora