I'm really glad that I've got this medication working for me on the depression front. I derped pretty hard last night and had banana bread as my bedtime snack. That made my blood sugar spike and I was all tired and stuff this morning from it. It didn't go super high, but enough that I had that "I ate too much, time to take a nap.' feeling after breakfast. I still shoveled the front steps (cardio, anyone?) and did about 20 minutes of walking while we were waiting for the bus.
I still have the seasonal affective disorder kicking me in the ass right now. It's going 'stay inside, hibernate, and give up on getting stuff done because it doesn't matter right now.' I have been replying, "Shut up, you annoying hack. I've got plans to make happen. I haven't got time for your ninny nonsense." I recognize this is not the kindest way to treat myself, but I am getting really annoyed with it and frustrated when it gets in my way.
If it were a cat, I'd put it in its own separate room for a while so I could get some work done, but that isn't exactly possible. So it weaves its way around my metaphorical feet trying to assassinate me. I didn't let it stop me from submitting to a magazine yesterday, however. Writer's Digest has a monthly competition. If you win, your story gets published in the next issue. I think you get a copy of it too. So, I submitted something untitled and now I wait to see what the reaction is. It wasn't my best work but it wasn't my worst either. It was a fictionalized account of something I've experienced.
I'm considering writing more about that experience. I'm going to make that decision when I get the feedback from Writer's Digest on my submission. If it doesn't make the cut, I may just sit down and type up the long form version of the story and submit it elsewhere. I know there are places looking for interesting slice of life narratives. I've got plenty of those.
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