P365 Day 214: Bite my head off, why don't ya

Ever get so mad you want to bite someone's head off? Joe-Kitty took the directive literally. It's not really her fault though; I woke her up and was trying to get her to play with her birdie. In retrospect, it's clear she did not want to play with birdie. (Hindsight is 20/20.) And after she chewed on its head for a while, she clawed the crap out of me.

Diplomacy at its finest.



Paul's meetings went OK yesterday, not hindered too much by the snow. I know the region he's in melted and refroze last night, but I'm not sure if they got any more snow.

For what it's worth, Mom said Memphis-area schools (and thus her school, which follows the county school system's inclement weather policy) were closed, but added, "This is no fun anymore because we have to make them up." I'm not sure how many snow days are built into Memphis-area schools' calendars, but it can't be many. Snow/ice/etc. is rarely a problem there.

Paul's flight arrives at 2:42 p.m. tomorrow (assuming no weather delays — and that's a big assumption). In any case, I have to get back on a regular schedule. With him gone, I've been staying up all night and sleeping very, very late. My doctor knows routine is very important in my treatment, and I think he'd be frustrated (he doesn't get "upset") with me. Switching things up that much is enough to edge me toward mania. So here's a resolution: meds before 11, bed before midnight, up before 10. That sounds reasonable enough.