Just back from the hospital. Saw the psychiatrist--not the therapist, not the art therapist. The guy with the prescriptions.
Told him about what's been going on and how I've been feeling. He thinks that a convergence of circumstances have enabled me to feel this good. He's not sure it will last. And he's just a tad concerned that I'm manic.
Manic?

Moi? Just because I decided at 4:30 in the morning to wash every piece of crystal in the breakfront and rearrange all three shelves? Just because I decided to polish every piece of brass or brasslike thing in the house? Just because I decided at 6:30 this morning that all my knee-highs and socks had to be paired and balled up in pairs. Just because I decided to reorganize my earrings at 7:30 this morning?
Yes, I saw the doctor this morning. When did I sleep? I didn't. Not yet anyway. Just a little insomnia.
BTW, I forgot how many pins I have. Lovely they are, too.
Da crash is coming. It's as inevitable as my kvetching. Enjoying things while I can.