Gettin off the Junk!

So today I went to see my Pshrink. His hair has gotten a bit longer pso he looks even more like a classic psychiatrist. He was dressed for the weather in a black psweater and checked pants. Is it pstrange how I notice speople's clothes pso much?

Anyways, I told him that the so called anti-depressants are not doing dick all except making me feel crappy, and thirsty, and queasy and unattractive. And that I used to have highs and lows, but now I have mediums and lows. Long story short, I'm getting off the little white pills. It will take two weeks to wean my messed up chemistry off of this stuff but knowing me and my low tolerance for everything- like I sniff the beer bottle cap and I'm good to go-I won't be surprised if I get all shaky and cranky. Like I said before, I don't ever want to do real bad illegal drugs if this is what the legal stuff does to me.

So is that the most boring story I've ever told? GEEZ, Idiot. Dang. I'll have to comeup with something better tomorrow.

Oh by the way he asked in a roundabout indirect shink-type way if I thought I'd be looked at funny if I walked down Queen St in Toronto with my hair like this. Well, no, obviously. Then I had to explain that in my bedroom community commuter filled town that nobody cares because they already know I'm not very typical. Y'know, those who know me get it. Nobody, I mean not a single person, at my church in my hometown (hick town), most of whom have known me since birth, raised an eyebrow when I showed up with pink hair. It's NOTHING compared to the way I looked fifteen years ago, man! So there ya go, I've been crazy for much longer than for the last year!