The limbo elves

There is something afoot. My therapist says it's the limbo elves. Like normal elves who come in and cobble your shoes at night, the limbo elves come in and make sure you're on the right path. They distract you from things or point you in the right direction. They say, "No, no, no!" when you're heading off in the wrong direction.

Limbo elves. It's like mini higher powers at work. They come in and invade my dreams, keep me from getting a job until it's the right one; they know what they're doing. Damn elves.

I'm feeling a bit better. My therapist thinks I'm a little manic, even though I've been sleeping during the day and up at night (which I usually equate with depression), and I'm bitchy. Huh, ok, that is more manic. I guess I've been writing about being a little manic for a while, and a little crazy, but I haven't really felt it. I do know that being this optimistic all the time is weird. We agreed the drug cocktail I'm on is probably the only thing keeping me from a breakdown at this point. Everything is crazy in my life, and I'm fine. I don't even want to drink or smoke. Normally I would be treating unemployment with booze and drugs. It's just what you do, right? As an addict, it's just what you do.

I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm just post-therapy rambling.