Squashed

Oh, it's nothing dire, trust me.

I slept through most of yesterday, not feeling quite the thing as Regency heroes would say. My eye is still sticky and goopy. Ick.

But what all that sleeping meant was that I got out of kilter about taking my meds.

This morning, I'd turned on to the main highway to go to work and realized I hadn't taken the morning's dose and left the day's dosages at home. I did the best I could with what I could salvage from my purse.

I may just be fooling myself, but I could swear that I feel a real and deep difference in how I'm functioning. If I take the meds, I get kind of spazzy when I walk. That's okay. No permanent damage done to me or the walls or the cats. It makes me feel a little self-conscious when I bump down the hall at work.

I much prefer that to having my brain completely fogging out on me like it did today. A number of bad feelings came seeping back and wouldn't be drained away. I had to keep reminding myself that everything would be okay when I got home and took my lunchtime dose. It hasn't been long enough to take effect.

I may well have been imagining it, but I could swear one person gave me the stink-eye and one person refused to talk to me. True or not, with the meds, I can ignore it. I want that. Give me 24 hours. Maybe 36. And things will go back to being okay.