(no subject)

About to have coffee and start taking the "one small thing at a time" approach to working on Hardy Boys.

Emmie is out of hard cat food, which might require me to leave the house later, dammit. I'm seriously tempted to just treat her to soft food today and pick up the hard stuff on my way home from my psychiatrist appointment tomorrow.

Speaking of which... I'm trembling with fear and anxiety about that. I don't feel ready to go back to Ipsos-Reid (even though I want to), and with the new exercise program I'm on plus the volunteer request I have in to Quagga, I think I'm juggling about as many balls as I can manage right now. I'm going to try to negotiate another month or so of sick leave from Dr. S. *beats head against desktop* It's all a tangled ball of confusion and despair that makes death seem pretty appealing.

I know I talk about that a lot -- death, that is, and wanting to die -- but each time that desire comes over me, it feels just as intense, consuming, and poisonous as the last, and usually more so. If I look at all the times I've felt that way, I'm amazed I've made it this far.

Okay. Time for coffee.

(no subject)

Tranquillizers are wonderful things. After I took one I thought I might end up crawling into bed and crashing, but I've been able to tough it out, stay awake, and get some work done on Hardy Boys.

This new 21-inch screen is like working in IMAX.

Still twisted up inside, but at least I'm a bit productive.

Seroquel AND tranquillizer

Seroquel AND a tranquillizer... quite the banner day. I got 4 1/2 pages of Hardy Boys true-color flats done, had a nice hot bath a little while ago, and am currently killing a bit of time reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire in ebook form before heading off to bed.

Just got up to get a glass of water a few minutes ago and had trouble walking, so obviously the Seroquel is starting to kick in.