shee-it

Yesterday I told my therapist how much I've been noticing lately that the weather affects me. I mean, I know I suffer from SAD. No news there. But lately it's been real bad. Real bad. Sunny days, I'm great. Productive and happy. Or rather, productive and not depressed. Rainy days, it ain't pretty. The gray weather just makes everything look so ugly, inside and outside, as it were.

My favorite line from therapy yesterday: I'm all about drugs cuz, well, we know it's gonna take at least 40 years to heal the old-fashioned way.

Woke to a thunderous April morning in Bloomington, Illinois. I had to put Belly on a leash to get her to pee. So there I am out there on the sidewalk with my umbrella and my hair wrapped in a towel, pushing Belly up onto the grass to try to get her to go. And saying, like the lunatic that I am, "you're not going in until you go potty." All this as she's staring longingly back at the house, her ears plastered to her little head. Even I had to laugh at this sight.