I’m still in good spirits. Indeed, very good spirits since “An Inappropriate Illness” was published. The response it generated, both the online discussion and private emails, has really given me a sense that my life means something, that I have found a way to be of service, and that’s a feeling of extraordinary power. (To cap things off, a bipolar disorder support association in Perth, Australia, has asked permission to reprint the article in its quarterly newsletter.)
I’ve been sleeping adequately, but my schedule has been thrown off a bit by dint of getting up rather early most days this weeks and being so drowsy at times today I literally could not keep my eyes open. Thus it’s 12:30 a.m. as I write this, but I’ve just awakened after a nap of several hours.
My concentration has been good. I’ve gotten a lot of work done lately, and it’s work I’m supposed to be doing, not new projects dreamt up and pursued on a whim. My impulse control is OK. True, I did go out this evening and spend over a thousand bucks, but that was on a) a new hot water heater whose purchase I’ve delayed until the failing old water heater forced me to take action; and b) the best vacuum cleaner I can afford, because with three dogs my Significant Other and I live in a perpetual desert of dog hair. Lesser measures simply haven’t gotten the job done.
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