March 30, 2000
Day #53
  [and Franz is Still Allowed to Live]"
 


 
I've been taking the St. John's Wort for almost two whole months now, and I must admit that I'm somewhat ridiculously proud of myself.  Usually by this point in the *self-improvement regime* I'm back to hiding bags of M&M's in my bottom desk drawer/falling asleep in full Maybelline/reading "People" instead of "PC Week."  

So I'm pleased with myself for sticking with it this time.

I've switched brands  --  from the pricier, available-only-on-the-Internet stuff, to the slightly-less-groovy but cheaper store label  --  but other than that I haven't altered the routine any. I'm still taking all 900 mg. at night, about an hour before bedtime. (Although for a while I was experimenting with spreading the dosage throughout the day ... one capsule in the morning, one at lunchtime, one at night. But when I started nodding off during "Entertainment Tonight," I went right back to the just-before-bedtime dosage.)  And I haven't missed a single day.

I swear I can feel a difference.

Nothing radical, mind you. I'm not walking around humming "Tomorrow" and passing out lollipops.   It's more like I suddenly have this new, enhanced ability to cope with daily nonsense. Like somebody is standing behind me, giving my big adorable butt a gentle *boost* over the emotional hurdles of life.

It's nice.

For instance, I honestly believe that the SJW helped keep me *level* during the last trip to TicTac.

It didn't do much to quell my fears about flying -- the only thing that helped with that, really, was LANDING without bursting into FLAMES -- but once I got there, it helped me stay reasonably calm in the face of unspeakable torment. (A fashion show in my mother's living room. A Mary Kay makeover. Going to the mall. Shopping for clothes for my seventeen-year-old. Singing 'The Star Spangled Banner' at a Rainbows Installation Ceremony.)

It helped when I came home from the trip to TicTac, too. Franz may have signed off on my three-day vacation request without complaint, but that doesn't mean he didn't look for little ways to *punish* me for taking the time off, once I got back. (Surprise! They've fired my pal Joanne. Surprise! My *In* Box looks like a recycling bin exploded. Surprise! My computer is GONE!)  Without the little cushion of stability I get from the SJW, those first couple of days back in the office would have been ten times the hell. I know it.

And it continues to help me deal with the little unexpected dropkicks life has to offer me, each and every day.

(Tune in tomorrow to hear about the untimely death of the Happy Panda Face Toaster.)


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