Weather: Four letters; rhymes with pain.
I figure I’ve put fifty to sixty hours into the marble dress; every time I go to work on it, I risk ruining it so work always comes with a bit of anxiety. It’s not like writing. Writers can hit the delete key and make a correction in a moment.
I’m almost finished the flocking and I think I will end up with a satisfactory look for the skirt of the dress. It has not been easy but I’m persevering. I somehow discovered how effective my hand could be to get the surface I wanted. Rescued! Onward!
I’ll have a lot of detail to apply once I’m done flocking so I’ll be working on this dress for a couple more days. Then I make a cake for Allan’s birthday. Then Beth arrives, so dress number ten doesn’t start for quite a while; Beth is here for an extended visit.
Last night I went to John and Bunny’s for dinner and to celebrate John’s seventieth. We were a group of six long-time friends, so I barely stuttered. I took warm champagne (so that we wouldn’t drink it). It was an excellent way to recover from the stress of the flocking during the day.
The walk to the bus, the bus ride and getting started with Dr. Shoja in the morning yesterday were a festival of symptoms. In my routine world, I am fine. Outside that routine, I am still a wreck and when I spend a lot of time in my routine I am always feeling cured.
Then, when I’m called outside my patterns, its shocking to discover how incapacitated I can be. Dr. Shoja says the loss of control is my brain in shock from overstimulation.
I’ll be taking Cipralex for at least a year.