One of the principal reasons I caved in and finally got a smart phone is that I want to have an easier and more ready-to-hand way of tracking my daily moods. The tracker I was using before was pencil and paper. And paper does not like me. Paper will not stay with me. It will accumulate in vast, wrinkled quantities all over the floor and under the seats of the car and overflow in the bags of recycling... but it will not be where I want it to be. So I am trying out an app called "optimism" which kinda pisses me off because it brings to mind my horribly failed optimist club speech in which I burst into tears and fled the room. However, the app seems easy to use, does not use a smiley face as the symbol for the app and was free. So I will give it a shot. Looking forward to meeting with my psychologist this coming Friday and with my psychiatrist following that. Today had a good day at work. The crabby janitor apologized for freaking me out. I claimed that I was just rattled because it was my first day of class so I was rattled anyway. Which is true. I have had non-creepy interactions with this particular custodian in the past. He is a plain-speaking, gruff kind of a guy. Took much too long of a nap this afternoon. Trying not to let it derail my sleep. And the more I read the more sleep seems like the wonder drug for people with bipolar. Sleep and exercise. I did 30 minutes of tap practice in the kitchen this afternoon. My paradiddles are coming along, but there isn't quite enough room to work on the buffalo or the shim sham. Those are the only names of things I learned that I can remember. Still loving tap. Here is what I love about tap: it is an exercise that I can do by myself, without going anywhere, without changing clothes, and it's fun. Grateful Crap: elderboy took both younger siblings to the park this afternoon Daily Convexions: took meds (150mg venlafaxine, 450mg bupropion, 50mg lamotrigine) walked outside 30 minutes tap snuggled with daughter (she is VERY tired. both she and I have some coughy virus) Comments are closed.
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K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |