Tug On The Reins

I've been more open on the blog here lately.

There's a part of me that gets a bit nervous when I start feeling well.  Why?  As long as I keep sleeping I'll go with it.  I'm sleeping well.  So far.

I've had a couple "incidences" - like dancing to "Rock Lobster" with sun glasses on (and getting a check on that - like dude, you aren't you), seeing a very colorful painting being painted in my head while off to get sushi in Texas City, taking off two days work because I can, seeing Kim shocked that I'm volunteering myself for this and that, blogging *a lot* the last few days, taking out my bandsaw to make room for the "Pit Stop" painting, joining a class for painting (that's on a week day), cleaning the backyard (a lot), spending a lot of money on a Super Bowl party where I didn't invite anybody (and being ecstatic about it), thinking how wonderful everybody is, planning a garden (actually, designing a landscape in my head), having another party for "The Daytona 500" - again, where I don't invite anybody, thinking I'm coming out of *it* (as if I understand what *it* is --- and drawing a "mesh" as if that's some kinda explanation --- and writing this faster than you can say rumplestilskien (sp?))...

It reminds me of a mix up a while back where Spoonbill Mark thought I was *loopy* when I took such and such medication but come to find out --- it was when I was *off* my medication that I was *loopy*.

I'll take it as a check.  Check.

As long as I can sleep and don't begin to think I have the answers for the world's problems...

Dang.  Dang it.  Dang.

And really fooling my doctor when he shook his head once and said something about manic depression --- because, honestly, I don't want to be even keel.  I want the high without the low... and there is no such thing.

Dang.  I know.

I'm not getting out.  I bet I'm just going the other way.  It's really funny in a sad sort of way.  Like a hamster.