A wasted evening

I got all but two pages of the number of HB pages I promised my editor this weekend finished and sent off this afternoon. But this evening? Not one, not even flats. I pissed the hours away surfing the internet.

I can't seem to concentrate or think straight. I burned a pot of noodles, cried about it, then whipped up an even bigger pot of noodles and gorged myself on carbs.

I'm running low on focus, strength, and hope. I just pray that I'll feel at least a little better tomorrow. I have to go out to the bank and make a couple of phone calls, and the prospect is bringing new tears to my eyes.

Off to bed, and munching crackers while I read a book. I think I'm going to need another tranquillizer.

I can't take many more days like this. It just hurts too damned much.

EDITED TO ADD: Screw the tranquillizer. I'm taking a Seroquel (the medication equivalent of a two-by-four across my frontal lobes). Give that about twenty minutes to kick in and I should be feeling no pain at all...

Seroquel: Ka-POW!

I had forgotten what Seroquel does to me. Within twenty minutes after taking it I felt like I had a fever, mentally speaking: I felt one step removed from my own body and the entire world seemed to be slowly pulsing. When I got up from the computer I actually stumbled and could barely walk. I was so messed up that George had to get me a glass of water for the bedside table because the task of getting the glass, filling it, and taking it back to bed was beyond my capability.

My head hit the pillow and I was gone.

Eight hours later, George tried to wake me up. It took him several tries to even get me out of bed, and then I fell almost fell asleep again sitting up on the couch drinking coffee. I managed to take my morning dose of Ritalin and after about forty minutes that and the coffee woke me up somewhat, but it was a pretty miserable forty minutes, let me tell you. The world was still pulsing and I could barely move.

It's pulsing less now. I've managed to get a couple of pages of HB done. But I can tell that the drug is still in my system and the urge to go back to bed is very hard to resist. At least I don't feel like killing myself anymore, which has got to be a plus.

It looks like I'll be doing the bank run tomorrow...

Quiz... hey, it's better than actually working

What Form Would Your Patronus Take? (With 10 Excellent Results & Pictures)

Your Patronus would be a Phoenix!
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