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     I began blogging on a tear, and after a two and a half week hiatus, I'm back... for now. I started the blog, less than coincidentally, the day my shrink left for a two week vacation. I remember being excited and having high hopes for it, but alas that was on one of those random "good days" that I have have from time to time. On days like that (this happens to be one, too) the energy is there, I'm not napping intermittently through(out) the day, and the spirits are up.

    Other (read: what seems like most) of the time, this is not the case. On my "groundhog days" (a nod to the movie and the animal) I wake up from hours of sleep only to find myself seemingly more tired than before I fell asleep. Undoubtedly, the bed and I are soon reunited, usually after a brief period of waking long enough to do my internet rotations and smoke something. The last day and half was a case in point, as I probably slept 20 out of the past 36 hours. It's a matter of physical exhaustion and practical escapism. Some people get high all day, I like to sleep. Sue me.

     Not that I have a problem getting up and at 'em when I need to be as proved by this past Wednesday, when I began temping again. (Shout out to Anne the coolest manager this side of the Mississippi). It's at a small bookstore of a local community college, and it's right up my alley meaning it's low-stress with a chill work environment. Things should start picking up once the students come back in force, but even then they have good energy for the most part as they eagerly do their back-to-school thing.

     I was in the middle of this starred thought when a confidante of mine IM'ed me. As we got to talking she said I sounded numb, defeated, and resigned to my place in life after I told her I had become content and complacent with things. I value her opinion because she has "know" known (as opposed to known of) me as well as anyone for nearly five years now and her brother is bipolar, so besides being insightful, her observations carry the weight of someone with foreknowledge of myself and manic depression. While I quickly conceded that my "contentment" was perhaps a stretch there was no doubting the latter. She went on to suggest that the meds may have put a dimmer on my life so to speak, and I couldn't help but find myself thinking about what she had said. During periods of high stress (e.g. grad school), I was overmedicated, and now that I find myself with minimal stressors, I pop some abilify (20mg) daily. If I miss a few consecutive doses, I'll notice a drop in my mood for the immediate short-term, but I haven't in recent memory been on anything else or off them long enough to know whether it is in fact putting a damper on things. This is definitely something I'll have to ask my shrink and prescriber about, but at this point I feel like I've been on every possible combination of meds used to treat bipolar disorder. Who knows, sometimes even less turns out to be even more.

     When I spoke of my referred to my circumstance and place in life above, it was that of a bipolar, broke, bum, burnout an excoriating, at-worst alliterative string that describes a life absent of fire and desire as one Rick James put it. Though I do suffer from "stinkin' thinkin'" from time to time, in my eyes it's easy to see why: 1)I'm in massive debt 2) Haven't been able to find FT employment since I've been back home (and even if I had been able to find FTE, in my past is any indication it wouldn't have lasted. The longest I've ever held down any job was six months, and after doing a recent lookback at my lifetime earnings, academic monies included, it totals less than 100K. 3) the Master's is on indefinite hold until/if I ever hear back from my advisor, who I believe has washed his hands of me 4) the list of dating-dealbreakers (see Quid pro quo, Cupid post) enumerating a list of things I don't have that nearly all people my age do, and the list goes on. This time last year, I figured it would be a good year if I could save up enough money to make my boy's wedding reception and all subsequent college-gang reunions. So far so good in that regard. But something tells me I could and should be doing and hoping for more for myself. Living like the quality of your years will expire at or around 60 is somewhat is a good entry point for a pretty nihilistic existence. That being said, the transition to an independent adulthood hasn't quite been going as planned, so we shall see.

     Just so you know that I know that it's not all bad here's the inverse to the said thinkin' above.

1) debt, no matter how massive can be paid, and really truth be told it's probably less than many of my peers who have school loans (the bulk of mine are medical) 2) I'm a FT gig away from being independent 3) I'm only one incomplete, one class, and one exam short of my Master's, and with a final active push, I know I could win my advisor over


    And more good news 1) there's no more bad news! Seriously though, there is a dose of it coming in the next post that could change things in a (hopefully) pretty major way.