Listened to Stephen Fry today describing the polar swings of my illness as being like the weather. I couldn’t agree more. It’s as real as rain and it comes and goes without a lot of warning though sometimes you can read the signs. I’m experiencing a black cloud right now. I have to keep reminding myself that the clouds will part and the sun will shine again. Cheesy metaphor?
Should I get out of bed? The coffee is definitely out of bed. But I’m sitting here reading dick and fart jokes comfortably on my phone. There may not be dick and fart jokes in the kitchen. Unless I make them! And the coffee. I’ve got to do everything around here.