I wake this morning to full blown mania. One cup of coffee and I try not to clean the kitchen floor with a toothbrush (it's been known to happen.) I am not thrilled with this development. It's so bad, I went ahead and took my night time medication. It's a new mood stabilizer that my shrink put me on, yesterday.
Later on this morning, I will start back up on my anti-depressant. Depression lurks behind mania, grinning with its skeleton eyes. Far from feeling creative this morning, I feel rattled, and my feet are cold. I drink lots of water, and think about yogurt.
I would like to attend a women's breakfast this morning, but will have to wait and see what this pill does. It's rispardone, for those who care.
My niece turned 15 yesterday. She doesn't make me feel old, she makes me feel young.
Yesterday was too cold, but very spring-like. And a neighbor left a frownie-face note on the car of the man who loves me. They are unhappy he parks in front of their building, because I have no parking. No yard for Max, and no parking for the man who loves me. The only demerits this apartment has.
Last night, about 2 o'clock, the man I love and I woke to a 7-11 parking lot full of people. Where had they come from? Where were they going? We are not to know. Just one of the small mysteries of life encompassed by life in the City.
The sky is still dark, at this hour, although that will change Saturday night/Sunday morning, as the time changes. The main drag out front is quiet, and car-less. Early morning construction crews and people hurrying to work will fill 7-11 in just moments.
Max is asleep. I shake with energy.