hangin' in

....almost the end of a long, long week. Taking new meds, skipping the vodka, keeping my head below the parapet. I feel bruised and tired, and have a vague feeling that hospital might have been a good idea - just not feasible at the moment, though. Too many birds, too much work, too complicated to try set it up. I know; if I got hit by a bus it would have to happen....but anything short of that, just can't do it. Instead, am arranging to take two weeks off next month, after major work project part #1 goes live, and when baby bird season is tailing off a bit.

Meanwhile, I ricochet from tdoc to pdoc to the dude, setting new lows in my inability to communicate. Pdoc of course, is having great fun with the whole dude affair, which I can understand - it's the first time he's seen me being led by the gonads, and it's appealing to his wicked sense of humour. This week, he leant back, gave me the very serious appraising look, and asked whether I thought orgasms could be an effective treatment for depression. I said yes, if they could last for a whole lot longer. Well, he says straight-faced, there was a guy who was studying that, but he went off to do some research and has never returned....

The dude himself continues to mystify me, confuse me and generally just complicate my life. One day soon (I hope) this will wear off, and I will be even more on guard against being blindsided like this. For now though, even his name is enough to get me hot and bothered - the way he feels...his scent...yo!, 'nuff said.