I expect tomorrow will be even better.
The pharmacy company (which is CVS/Caremark, by the way) is fucking with my scripts again. I got a change in medication therapy, by all rules of logic, I should be able to get a 30 day fill to try it out. But no, they want a 90 day script, or $400 (for the generic for 30 days). So they faxed the doctor on the 11th and he probably blew it off because it makes no good sense in a treatment sense. Even he is tired of their shit. So Doc talked the pharmacist out of a few pills to get me through monday, and I will coordinate with CVS and my doctor's receptionist to get the 90 script faxed in. Fuck me running. Every three months it has been something with this company. Why UPS left MEDCO is beyond me. They were competent. And meanwhile, they are all up in my shit, faxing my doctor and refilling shit I don't need without my consent. Then they get bent when you don't want it. Argh, and shit.
My play list isn't trying to drive me to suicide tonight, which is a refreshing change. I added the whole of Songs of Innocence to the play list. So far, nothing has played from it, but it will be a nice treat when something does, I hope.
I watched the Breakfast Club tonight. It was edited all to hell, but it was fun to see again. It's been a few years.
The Cactus Garden has been lit for the season. I haven't decided when I'm making Doc take me. But I am going this year.
Either we are cleaning out the garage tomorrow, or I am working on my smashbook/art journal. I have to make an effort to break out of this torpor, not just leave it to the medication. I have to work for it if I want to get better. Art therapy is a good start. Having a sleep schedule thanks to the Seroquel helps a lot, too.