Sorry 'bout the lack of posts, but these winter months tend to wreak havoc on my ability to do ANYTHING, much less post to my blog. Stay tuned, however, cuz I gots some tricks up me sleeve.
Been to the doctor recently (a rarity, as I've no insurance!) and you'll all be happy to know that I am in generally good health. Been giving some anti-depressants a try (better living through chemistry!) and while it's only been a coupla of months, I haven't noticed any marked improvement with regards to my chronic melancholia. The doctor suggests (of course!) that if one medication doesn't seem to work, we can try another one...and then another...and so on and so on, ad infinitum. Doctors and "Big Pharma" LOVE this notion, arguing that treating depression with medication is closer to medieval alchemy than it is to true science. My doc is another graduate of The Hit Or Miss School Of Medicine. And then, inevitably, after a few more months, the doc will say I've been misdiagnosed! "You're not depressed at all," he'll say. "You're bi-polar! Here...take these samples. I have no idea what they are, but the pharmacy rep dropped them off just this morning! She gave me all kinds of goodies, like this pen here. And she's got great legs! I couldn't keep my eyes off 'em. Didn't hear a word she said. But hey...you've already tried every other drug under the sun. One more isn't gonna hurt." What I REALLY need is a heroic dose of psilocybin followed by a cocaine/morphine speedball chaser. I imagine that'd liven up one's day. Actually, I'm sure all I need is more exercise. Vigorous sex on a regular basis would, I'm sure, be a MIRACULOUS cure. But I'll be dead before I find a partner who's willing to nurse me back to health in such a manner. Looks like I'll just have to settle for jumpin' jacks and walks around the block.