Not tomorrow, or the day after either, apparently

Alas, poor blog, the day after I posted the last entry, a friend had a crisis and life got in the way and before I knew it, it was January and I had half a notebook of half-assed ideas for posts, and a slumping sense of apathy.

Well. I'm still alive, and I'm still taking high doses of Prozac and basking in front of a light box whenever I can. My cats try to eclipse it, but it still seems to help.

No, not today

I woke up a few months ago with a phrase bouncing around my head and no idea where it came from- "What do we say to Mr. Death? Not today, motherfucker!"- and it congealed into a plan to write about things that have happened and things that have helped when I'm crazy. It's very possible I'll get three posts in, and realise I have nothing to say but am saying it anyway, but there's something vaguely soothing about typing into the void.