All right all ready

If late night is not optimal prozac time, neither is first thing in the AM. I'm sitting here trying to either swallow or puke the damn things down before I have to drive out for a meeting with the social worker about Uncle John. My old bones are just not equipped to rising at 6 ish and functioning well.

Damn her for only having an 8 am appointment. What about ME, huh? What about MY needs? Why does the world insist that I do mornings when I am quite sure that no, thankyou, I really DON'T.

It's hard for me to be optimistic and grateful at 6 a.m. Hell, it's hard for me to get properly dressed at 6 am. And oh joys, tomorrow MORNING I get to go have a mammogram. I can't do this, I can't I can't I can't.

Yet, somehow, I will.