.
I slept for an hour.
I got up and got behind my computer. I have urges now. Strong urges to write. That's all I want to do. Write graphs and charts and shit to track my reaching out to publishers, which I'm turning into a full time job. That's the only way that I'm ever going to get in touch with a bona-fide Agent or Editor and get my typed garbage on the market.
I want to sell something! Period. I feel like going back to writing porn reviews. I seem to have a skill at that. Well somebody has to. Why not me? But that's beside the point. The point is that I turned on my computer and it booted up into my calendar. The calendar read that I have a 9:30 appointment with the shrink downstairs. So I jump into my clothes and fly. I'm halfway unconscious as I get there, but I'm also hyper. It hit me on the elevator. Like a ton of bricks.
Get this, have you ever had the world around you pack into your eyes? Yeah, that's what it feels like. Colors and shapes, like wooden preschool blocks, being pressed harshly into your eye sockets. Things that move are worse. It's like they are trying to pry your eyeballs out. So I walk in, feeling as if my eyes are two eggs poking out of my head behind my glasses, threatening to knock them off my head.
I sit down and tell my shrink, Dr. G about it and she tells me that it could be my WRANK. I'm still taking too much of it. I don't know. I don't feel like I have enough of that shit in my blood stream. She might be right though. Although I don't want to admit it. I have to say that I'm hyperactive again, and I love it. Now, not only am I hyperactive once more I can't focus on anything for more than fifteen - twenty minutes. Yeah AADD. It makes it hard to watch television, wash dishes, write, blog, eat. Everything. I'm constantly fighting the feeling of wanting to do something but not knowing what it is.
A constant and steady state of restless- ness that can drive you mad if you think about it too much. I have to admit, the only solace for such a condition is jumping from this thing and that thing until it becomes something like multitasking. That seems to work for me in the long run. I just pick four things to do and then do them all at the same time. I get a lot of things done without stopping to do this for a few and that for a few.
So, here I am, on the cutting edge. Writing like a manic when I can. I find that I can even sleep when I attack it aggressively. There is a level of me that is sleep deprived. Maybe that's why I can't remember sometimes being up. So what I did today was fight to sleep. My body fights against it. After an hour I wake up and climb out of bed, because that is my natural inclination. Now I don't listen to it. I roll over and try to fall asleep again. AND I DO! Only for about an hour, but when I wake up, I do that shit all over again. It's like wrestling yourself. Weird, right?
Well, I'm still feeling pretty groovy. I mean it. I'm upbeat and full of vim and vigor. I've got a lot of paperwork to crank out and a lot of cleaning to do. Then, who knows? I might even try sleeping again.
Thank god for WRANK!
(Wellbutrin and Crank)
HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/03/it-you-squish-it-they-will-come.html
Visit extra vagance de plumes for Daily Updated Hairstyles Collection
I slept for an hour.
I got up and got behind my computer. I have urges now. Strong urges to write. That's all I want to do. Write graphs and charts and shit to track my reaching out to publishers, which I'm turning into a full time job. That's the only way that I'm ever going to get in touch with a bona-fide Agent or Editor and get my typed garbage on the market.
I want to sell something! Period. I feel like going back to writing porn reviews. I seem to have a skill at that. Well somebody has to. Why not me? But that's beside the point. The point is that I turned on my computer and it booted up into my calendar. The calendar read that I have a 9:30 appointment with the shrink downstairs. So I jump into my clothes and fly. I'm halfway unconscious as I get there, but I'm also hyper. It hit me on the elevator. Like a ton of bricks.
Get this, have you ever had the world around you pack into your eyes? Yeah, that's what it feels like. Colors and shapes, like wooden preschool blocks, being pressed harshly into your eye sockets. Things that move are worse. It's like they are trying to pry your eyeballs out. So I walk in, feeling as if my eyes are two eggs poking out of my head behind my glasses, threatening to knock them off my head.
I sit down and tell my shrink, Dr. G about it and she tells me that it could be my WRANK. I'm still taking too much of it. I don't know. I don't feel like I have enough of that shit in my blood stream. She might be right though. Although I don't want to admit it. I have to say that I'm hyperactive again, and I love it. Now, not only am I hyperactive once more I can't focus on anything for more than fifteen - twenty minutes. Yeah AADD. It makes it hard to watch television, wash dishes, write, blog, eat. Everything. I'm constantly fighting the feeling of wanting to do something but not knowing what it is.
A constant and steady state of restless- ness that can drive you mad if you think about it too much. I have to admit, the only solace for such a condition is jumping from this thing and that thing until it becomes something like multitasking. That seems to work for me in the long run. I just pick four things to do and then do them all at the same time. I get a lot of things done without stopping to do this for a few and that for a few.
So, here I am, on the cutting edge. Writing like a manic when I can. I find that I can even sleep when I attack it aggressively. There is a level of me that is sleep deprived. Maybe that's why I can't remember sometimes being up. So what I did today was fight to sleep. My body fights against it. After an hour I wake up and climb out of bed, because that is my natural inclination. Now I don't listen to it. I roll over and try to fall asleep again. AND I DO! Only for about an hour, but when I wake up, I do that shit all over again. It's like wrestling yourself. Weird, right?
Well, I'm still feeling pretty groovy. I mean it. I'm upbeat and full of vim and vigor. I've got a lot of paperwork to crank out and a lot of cleaning to do. Then, who knows? I might even try sleeping again.
Thank god for WRANK!
(Wellbutrin and Crank)
HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/03/it-you-squish-it-they-will-come.html
Visit extra vagance de plumes for Daily Updated Hairstyles Collection
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