I got my ass halfway into gear, and started on the work that I have been avoiding for the last month. It's cutting it fine, because I have about a trillion hours to do within the next two weeks, followed by a whole lot more immediately before we upgrade. And seeing as I selected the date, it can't be weaseled out of. I've also realised again that working during daylight just doesn't happen. Too many little birds to feed. Too many calls about other little birds. I can't turn my phone off - I'm not really allowed to for work, and feel too guilty about birds anyway - and I can't ignore calls for long. At the same time, I don't want to encourage my nocturnal habits; it's all too easy to slip into staying up all night and being the walking dead for the days.
The work-attack comes along with being absolutely terrified to admit that for three days now, I haven't cried. Haven't been suicidal. Haven't counted my OD pill stash.
FUCK!!! I feel fragile as all hell, but I don't feel like I want to die before I even wake up. Not sure if it's the Tofranil or getting laid regularly - I'm hoping it's the meds, because they're a lot more available and certain than any ongoing dude input would be. For now though, that still goes well. Scratch well...make it amazingly. I have no idea why, figure that I'm not even going to try to understand it, but he is still absolutely doing it for me. I look at him and find myself getting this little smirk on my face as I wonder how soon I can get his clothes off.
He is becoming more and more cuddly too, which I really enjoy. This ain't love, or anything serious at all, but it just feels so damn good for now.