Did I ever mention that all my prescriptions went on strike at the same time a few months ago? Anyway, I started new script #3 yesterday. My ADD is pretty bad, and my performance at work has been suffering. Anyway, I've taken the last two days off work because taking all these pills has me feeling pretty wonky. My energy levels are totally unpredictable.
Anyway, after taking the Straterra™ for the first time yesterday (in addition to the Cymbalta™ and Concerta™), I did something out of character for me. I sent email.
DAHN! DAHN! DAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!
Oh, hush. Let me explain.
At the best of times, it takes forever to email my own family. I can write, but writing for correspondence is my weakest point. But yesterday, I not only wrote an email, but one to someone I don't know. Someone well known it what they do, at that. That's right, I wrote a fan email. A fan email asking permission to promote them via geocaching. What the heck is wrong with me!? I live in a shell! Under a rock!
Today, there's a reply sitting in my inbox, but I'm too embarrassed to open it. I haven't taken today's dose of meds yet, and I'm hesitant. I don't want to embarrass myself again. We'll see how I feel when the water is done filtering and getting cold, I guess.
Tendonitis is getting the better of me now, so I must sign off. In the meantime, I hereby subject you all to my new obsession.
Great pulp in the style of golden age radio, this podcast is. Superheros, hard-boiled detectives, space adventures, and hyper-enthusiastic announcers. It's got it all.