So the main difference between Prozac and not-Prozac seems to be how overwhelmed I feel. On Prozac, my sense that everything was spinning rapidly out of my control was significantly reduced. Off Prozac, I feel like there is not enough time in my day to get anything done and also I cannot possibly do anything I need to do and we are all dooooooomed. On the other hand, I can get up in the morning without feeling like I need to immediately take a nap. So…win?
The thing that makes it tricky is that I do have a lot to do, and I don’t have enough time to do it, so feeling overwhelmed is kind of an appropriate reaction, right? Although it could be argued that keeping a level head makes it a lot easier to get as much done as possible, whereas sitting on the couch frozen by indecision isn’t exactly productive.
You see my conundrum.
Also: I hate taking pills every day, and I hate having to take pills every day. Blargh.
NaNoWriMo: Day 1 was a rousing success. I got almost 1700 words and can’t wait to do it again tomorrow. This is because I am a crazy person, but crazy people are fun, right?
Not So is watching Ghostbusters. This is what we do. We watch things.
In other news, I was really sick a couple of weeks ago with what may or may not have been swine flu (take that, specificity!) and realized one night I forgot to take my prozac. Since then I’ve continued to not take my prozac and I’ve felt kind of fabulous, so I’m counting that as a win. The prozac was great, actually, but it made me so freaking tired I could barely keep my eyes open, except at night, when I would just lay in bed with a million ideas running through my head. I enjoy my sleep, but I also enjoy not sleeping at appropriate times, kwim?
Speaking of sleep, I’m tired, and I have a TON to do tomorrow.
I keep finding myself trying to describe what it feels like to get depressed. Which is ridiculous, if you think about it, because it’s not like I sit around trying to find the words to explain not being depressed – and, let’s face it, if you look at the averages that’s how I spend most of my life. But the Prozac (you knew I’d talk about the Prozac again eventually, didn’t you?) has been working, so there has been much less of the doom and gloom and somewhat more of the hey, look at that, things don’t suck entirely! which is a very nice change and I hope it stays that way.
So I just snarfed a huge piece of really gross cake and I feel elephantine and miserable and I really want to sit in a quiet room where I have no projects (over)due and no one is demanding that I console them while they pee on me,* for christ’s sake, and maybe, just MAYBE, I can sleep for more than two hours at a stretch, please, yes?
*The kid is having a slight potty-training relapse. I mention this in case you were entertaining notions of a more adult nature, which, ew.
Well, the main thing I notice about the Prozac is that it makes me feel kind of sick. Only when I eat, though – the rest of the time I’m fine as daisies. Which is good news, actually! Because I was worried that it would make me gain weight, and obviously if I get nauseous every time I snarf down a scone I’m not going to be gorging on anything. So let’s count that as a win, shall we?
Speaking of scones, I’ve had this problem lately wherein everything I try to bake turns out horribly. Not just run-of-the-mill so-you-say-you-can’t-bake horribly, but like “Um, are you sure you actually measured all the ingredients?” horribly. To wit: the chocolate chip cookies which I have made before without incident and are supposed to be flat and delicious came out puffed and dry. I have to use almost twice the amount of liquid called for in my tried-and-true scone recipe, which is just weird, since I make those all the freaking time. I can only think that it must have something to do with the flour I’m using, except that when I tried using different flour the same thing happened. So my new theory is that my oven is possessed. Anyone know where I can get an oven exorcism on the cheap?