I keep getting all these likes on “Gratitude List 1642,” as though somebody’s trying to tell me that at some point I counted wrong. If anyone’s bored today and would like to advise me of the error of my ways, I’ll send you a restricted link to a bunch of free piano music. I’m so spacey I’m still trying to get to removing the one category on my categories list that looks like this:

Apparently, all the tags for that particular post acted as though they deserved to be considered a brand new category, in and of themselves. Not to mention the word “Bible” always has a small “b” affixed to it, which is a tiny bit disturbing. And many similar such spacey scenarios abound.

I think I need a lifetime personal assistant to help me organize my efforts here. (Female preferred). Either that or I need to finally convince some doctor to give the meds that WORK and believe me when I say I will take them regularly like a mature adult and not abuse them like the juvenile delinquent that these local psychiatrists sometimes confuse me for.

Somebody get me my Adderol so I can quit starting the day with quad shots of espresso after major hour-long freak-outs trying to locate all the missing items that I randomly toss around the house, including the full glass of water I’m supposed to drink after taking my levothyroxine (wherever it may be.) I’m starting to risk tearing up my stomach lining.

Chasing quad shots with coffee is an expensive workaround solution, but when you can’t find all the Classic Roast coffee you just bought from the convenience store (while still in your pajamas, by the way), you get a little desperate.

End of rant.