Pill Popping Lament

I take pills.

What kind?
ha!
Wouldn't you like to know.

I use them to handle generalized anxiety and depression.

I don't like taking medicine, as a rule,
because who wants to be dependent on chemicals that do stuff to you?
But apparently my normal-state-of-being needs some alteration.
Which sucks.

A few days ago, I accidentally took one of my pills very late in the day.

Big mistake.
I felt horrible.

I got emotional.
I got dizzy.
My heart felt like it wanted to grow wings and escape my body.

It was not fun.
I think that qualifies as an addiction.

In my emotional state, I start emailing...
my sisters, my mom, my friend Kat,
with all these Debbie Downer emails.

Emails that lament about my life.
I can be quite a drama queen.

Then later I'm embarrassed and ashamed I sent those emails.
and aware that I complain about the same things over and over.





After a while people get sick of you complaining about the same stuff over and over.
Do something about it, you know?
But that's often easier said than done.
I don't want to be a whiner, a complainer, someone who doesn't change or take charge.

It's time for change.
I have a job interview today.
Wish me luck.
It's time for certain doors to close and others to open.
Yes, I'm back to my door metaphor.

I wanted to buy this door the other day at our local Trade Days,
to put on my wall.



However, it was $275, and I just couldn't justify spending that.



Anyway, just a snippet of my addiction.



Rinse, lather, repeat.



Do I make sense?
Do I bore you?
Do I fascinate you?
Do I entertain?