that certain feelin'

Avast ye, scurvy dogs! Time to sail those high seas. Aye, board if ye longs to see the morrow!

Know what rocks, he says with a double dose of sarcasm? Anxiety rocks! Here is just one of its many flavors: often, and quite unpredictably, my body decides it's awake time at some absurd hour. For example, today I powered up around 6am, circa 3-4h after finally entering suspend mode last night. The exit from hibernation is by no means casual, either. No; rather, the eyes open wide, the skin crawls with itch, and the brain bursts onto the scene at full throttle. Thoughts fly through the mind with little trace - even multiplying exponents, one of my favorite mathtivities, is futile. By this time Xanax (alprazolam), my main anti-anxiety med, is mostly ineffective, and I just have to get up and explode. But the day is shot by then, meds or no. Armchair sleep experts, have at it!

BTW, writing about anxiety is difficult whilst still under the anxinfluence...

Imagine the Utopia in which bed is a place of rest, not a straightjacket. What a luxury, eh?

Go go gadget logarithm!