Well, it is the middle of a hot summer week and I am in the need of a serious vacation.
My ole buddy, Anxiety Attack, has reared his hideous head. Seems the mixture of strong pharmaceuticals, along with regular exercise and a good diet have lost the effectiveness.
I can't decide if I want to trudge back to the doctor for another ingredient in the cocktail, or wait it out. I haven't be able to function well in the corporate jungle this week. I know all the specifics. Anxiety is the body's reaction to stress, the old fight or flight response which dates back to our prehistory. But mine is short-circuited. I feel like fighting and fleeing, often at the same time. My dad says I'm high-strung, like a Thoroughbred.
Well, I will continue to try, each day. It is all I can do, until the man-cub gets a contract with the NFL or the CFL, then I can retire to the beach.