I can never see the fangs . . .

. . . but they must be there somewhere. The doc changed my meds, and I have stumbled through the week, feeling generally rotten, unable to think my way out of a paper bag, with no energy (thereby stealing the 25th anniversary dance at ABD with Brave Combo, bah . . .) and sleeping at odd hours.

But twice a day, around 11 pm, and around 10 am, just before I take the meds again . . . then the fangs come out, the IQ jumps 25 points, and I try to take care of everything I have been wrestling with for the previous 12 hours. (Yes, I know that doesn't quite match up. I fumble for metaphor.) I am functional at 2 AM, and not at 5 PM. It's a damn nuisance. What's worse, I was feeling almost normal when I headed to ConDFW last weekend. But you could not find my meds in Austin for love or money, and the doctor had to give me something else until the manufacturer was on the ball again.

So I lost all that ground. My head and my hands are Not Amused. (Yeah, I know I owe a Report. Maybe this week.)
( Convention survival )

( Afterward -- )

Yes, I *am* an administratrix. My site children love me and fear me . . ..

W's family is having all sorts of problems -- his FIL has injured his lower back, worrying in a 92 year old gent, no matter how spry, and W's nephew is in the hospital with unexplained intestinal bleeding. My family, at least, seems well and happy.

And that's enough blathering for now. I'm going to try and sleep. Pleasant dreams, all --