ETA: Please, NO COMMISERATING. It usually just makes me feel worse because no two people with mental illness are ever in the same place, and I need to be working through my own shit instead of comparing myself to others. However, rooting for me is totally acceptable and is encouraged.
They tell me that eventually this drug is going to work like a charm, and in the meantime it's just going be a bit "activating." Where activating = sitting curled up on the corner of the couch, sobbing, convinced my life is a crumbling wreck of a life, not even able ...
I would, and I DID.
It's still hotter than Hades, I still have a gaping wound in my palm, AND the new Batman movie opens tonight at midnight. All of those factors combine to force a quick and easy, light-on-heat-and-cooking smackdown. Ipso facto, salad.
When I want salad, I turn to Susan Spicer's Crescent City Cooking. God help me, that woman knows how to compose a fucking salad. On the menu tonight: marinated lentil salad with fresh tomatoes and goat cheese.
Keep going...
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