AND ON THE 28th DAY, AUNT FLO RESTED
That's right. 28 fucking days. Exactly. I'm almost afraid to call it over for fear I might jinx myself. But I think it's over for now (knock on wood).

Had my pdoc appointment yesterday. Told her I'd been depressed for over a month, she upped my doxepin to 100 mgs. I did some shopping after the appt, then as soon as I came home (around 1:30pm) I popped one. I was out cold till about 8pm.

During the appt she asked me if it was anything in particular. I was a little too fucked up at the moment to give her an honest answer, but what I wanted to say was, Why should I even bother going into it? I've been your patient for nearly three years, and the ONE time I wanted to talk to you about something that was bothering me, you shrugged your shoulders and said, "I don't know what to tell you". I understand that you are not a therapist. I don't WANT a therapist. I don't want to have to spill my guts to you for half an hour every time I come in here for the 9 times out of 10 that I just need a damn refill on my meds. But the ONE time out of ten that I do need to talk, you could at least pretend to be empathetic.

I have another appointment scheduled with her in a month. Maybe I'll say it to her then.

I have to admit I felt marginally better after taking that one pill. Could just be the placebo effect. We'll see.

I recently discovered that Blogger has a new stats feature. Seems there are a lot of people in the UK who are reading this here blog. I can't imagine why, but thanks for your interest!

I was going to go and take some garbage out, but my landlord is in the building. What he's doing here after 8pm on a Saturday night, God only knows. Saturday night is usually the one time of the week I'm guaranteed NOT to see him. Guess I'll just lay low and fool around on the computer for a while. I don't like to play music or run the water when he's here, because he might try to bother me if he knows I'm home. *sigh*

Think I'll check my stats now.
- posted by Pat @ 7:59 PM