Not through yet. Still scrambling to produce something vaguely resembling work. Adrenaline to the max. Did not cry, well, just a little bit while listening to "Luci a San Siro" again. Slept two nights on the couch, under the (wrong) impression that this way I work longer. Friends are being great. Also I'm living on Xanax, 3 or 4 pills a day, they tell me it's a normal dose. I don't want to take more, or different medicines, because I have to pull through on my strength, Xanax is just to stop sweating and shaking and feeling like I'm dead and everybody else is dying and it's my fault. Also Coca-cola, Pocket Coffee and junk food, and very little beer so I don't get too sleepy... my favourite drugs. If there's one thing you can be sure about me, I won't starve, and my conscience is even clean because I'm back to my average weight. (Incidentally, I had put up 5 kilos and busted my knees while I was working at the hospital. Both things solved themselves. I'm not imagining things when I say that stress makes me feel ill.) This is a nice electroshock of pride. Hope it lasts. More when I actually finish the thing. |