Stupid Calling...

I enjoy writing, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I wish I had another creative pursuit that attracted me as much.  Say, weaving, or tap dancing, or even baking.  I mean, bakers don't get baker's block, do they?  That said, I managed to write a couple of paragraphs last night, which I consider a huge success.  Not sure how good they are, but at least they're words typed into the computer, which is more than I had.

And nothing is being helped by my rampant paranoia.  It's gotta be two years or more since I went through a bout like this; where I'm just convinced that the world is against me, in the evil-plotting way.  Oh, and by the way, every conversation in a given room, where I hear the word 'she' spoken in a low voice...It's about me, and how much I suck.  Fun, right?  The best thing for it is medication, but there are other issues keeping me off meds right now, so I'm going to have to work it out with diet changes and meditation.  There are herbal remedies, but I'm alergic to many of them.

I'm very excited to see Friday around the corner; some weeks, five days just seem like too many to work.