Okay so I was talking to a friend last night about my current bout of depression, and she, because she likes to tease me about how girly I am, pointed out that my bipolar cycle speeds up once a month, mimicking a period.

Now before you totally dismiss this, I must report that both times I lived with a woman with a menstrual cycle, my bipolar started to mirror that cycle, to the point I would joke with Tracy that she never had to tell me when her period was about to start, as I just had to pay attention to my own emotions.

I have begun the process of trying to figure out what I can take with me to the new place.

Its a bit smaller than what I currently have, so the more I can give away is better, but I'm finding it hard.

Ah, well.

I feel like there is a piece of me that has isolated itself from the rest.

while the rest of me is doing the walking and the talking and even the thinking and the feeling, this piece is separated, watching it all.

But it does more than watch.

It provides commentary, and even narration in the third person like I'm a character in a story.

Sometimes, I wish I could integrate it into myself, but I have no idea how.

so my mom just had a rough couple of days.

on Sunday, her portable closet broke, she spilled part of breakfast, and she discovered her tomatoes had gone bad.

Yesterday she got confused and couldn't find the entrance to Costco.

If you want to give her some huggles, I'll pass them on to her.

I was talking to my therapist about my dreams, and she asked me an interesting question.

Many of my dreams feature me trying to protect others, or rescue others, and she wondered if I ever dreamed I was the one being rescued or protected.

And after some hard thought, I can say that to the best of my ability to remember, I have never had that kind of dream.

Even in my dreams, it seems, I don't believe anyone would be coming to my rescue.

I kind of think that's sad.

Okay so yesterday, I was shopping with Sharon, and I decided to pick up a bottle of distilled water for my CPAP machine, but when I went to ask a worker at the store, the word "distilled" simply vanished from my vocabulary.

I was able to find where they had the bottles, but its very uncomfortable to be standing in front of someone asking for something, and then the word for that something wont come.

sighs . . .

So I dreamed I was the star of a TV show about teen superheroes aboard a space station.

I've clearly been reading (and writing) too many superhero stories.

Today was a "bad news - good news" day.

First the bad - I somehow managed to tear a hole in one of the tires on my car, and that was a serious stress
.
But now the good - My neighbor helped me put on my spare so I could take the car to a tire store, and after we got that looked after we were able to get a refill on my medications and some groceries.

I like days that end better than they start, don't you?

So, I finally finished an application for subsidized housing on the south side of Edmonton for mom and me.

Being closer to Sharon and Sam would be a good thing, and maybe if my mom isn't here she wont have as much paranoia about my sister in law. (I know, unlikely, considering what dementia does, but I can hope)

Personally I have mixed feelings about leaving. I've felt safe here, which has been a rare thing for me, but the long drives are tough, and I think I can still be of some good to my mom by staying with her, or at least I hope so.

last night I had a dream that reminded me of something that actually happened.

When I was 16, we returned to Calgary after spending a year in Denver, and I was lucky enough to fall into a group of people who were into D&D, including some girls. later, in summer, two of the girls invited me to come over and spend the day with them.

As it was very hot, they soon decided to strip to their underwear, and encouraged me to do the same.

Nothing even slightly sexual happened, we just watched tv and played some games.

So last night, I dreamed I was back in school, and for some reason, after one class I was escorted around by a girl.

She was wearing a pretty black dress with rhinestones, and dark hose that was still sheer enough to show she had a tattoo on her thigh, and I was just dying of jealousy.

I woke feeling sad.

ah, well.

Does anybody know anything about making a cover letter to accompany a submission to a publisher?

any help appreciated.

I think I can finally admit I find the idea of dating a crossdressing man appealing. what that says about me, I have no clue, but since it has maybe a 1% chance of happening, I probably shouldn't panic about it.

I've been reading some of the other entries for the Valentine's day contest on my writing site, and all I can say is that many of the authors are as good as any major bestseller's author.

I'm just a duffer, but I feel privileged to just be in the company of such talent.

Well, it feels like its been a while since I have given a writing update, here goes:

Chapter 4 of "portal problems" is being written now. hopefully done by the end of the month.

Horror story "when paths cross" and its sequel are also being worked on. not sure how long to go.

Latest story about "Tinker Tailor Soldier Dot" is actually done, but waiting for Amethyst to be able to finish her Pinpoint story before it gets released, and a 5th story has been started.

Today I went to get tested for allergies, and I tested positive to cat hair, tree pollen, grass, and shrimp - the latter is apparently bad enough they have proscribed an epi pen for me.

But something interesting happened.

When they first gave me my results and the prescription, I noticed it had the wrong name, so I had to go back in and get things straightened out.

But what was interesting was the young woman receptionist apologized repeatedly, and I told her not to sweat it, since I got the corrected information.

My Valentine's day contest entry is up.

If you want to check it out, its here: https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/93048/customer-satisf...

So, I've entered a depression, and I'm trying to be as mindful of what happens as I was during my manic phase.

So far, I'm having a rather unusual symptom, at least for me, I've lost my appetite.

Not much I can do but maybe force myself to eat a little.

hugs appreciated, folks

I've been working on a sequel to "Demonstration Model" and I'm getting frustrated with myself.

I've developed a reputation for flash fiction, and while that's not bad, sometimes, I'd like to actually let a story breathe a bit.

But that's not happening with this story. I'm 370 words in, and I'm going to be lucky to end up with over 500 words.

sighs . . .

Well, "dodging bullets" seems to be a theme around here today.

My brother dodged a bullet when we found out he hadn't dislocated his knee or torn tendons as we had feared, but had just inflamed everything. Bit of rest, and then light exercise, and he will be on the road to recovery.

Mom and I dodged a bullet dealing with COVID, as while we couldn't get a test to confirm, it seems likely we had a mild version of the disease, meaning the fact we were both vaccinated probably prevented us from needing to be hospitalized.

I've been writing a scary story for the last while, but I think I've written myself into a corner.

if anybody thinks they could help, I'll share what I got.

thanks in advance.