Hey, Ladies! Thanks, my dears! I was able to cry a little bit here and there, but you're right, I've shed way too many tears already, and I need to act on my own behalf without emotion so that I can at least survive. Otherwise, I think I might have done myself in if I weren't on the medication when my cat died.

Ironically, we still have a cat in the house, although technically she isn't mine. One of the 4 kittens that the momma cat delivered, they decided to keep because they just fell in love with her. I still do almost all the caring for the kitten, feeding and cleaning the box, plus trying to bathe the fleas off her and putting a flea collar on her. And in spite of the fact that I gave her a bath, Simba sleeps with me most of the time. In fact, she curls up in my spot on my bed when I'm not there. Well, I've always wanted a ginger tabby, and I sort of have one. I'd rather have my sweet little Precious back, but that's impossible now.

Paraphrasing the old song: "If you can't be with the cat you love, Honey, love the cat you're with."

Simba's soulful looks aren't quite the same as the ones Precious used to give me, nor even as deep as the ones the momma cat used to give me... but they ARE soulful looks, and somehow I believe Simba and I understand each other on a deep level. Thank God for animals.

On another note... a friend sent me $500! So I can pay for my medicine now, and for a few odds and ends. I have my own bank account now, which Xhubby and roommate told me I needed to do anyway... and ironically, even though I don't have any other $$ coming in yet, I have a whole lot more than the lovers do. In fact, Raul is jealous of the fact that I have some and he doesn't. They should consider partying less and concentrating on bills more! In fact, when he confronted me, wanting me to give him some $$, I asked him why they were spending so much money on parties and barbecues when they were so short on funds. He said he didn't know, but dismissed the idea that they should change their economic strategy.

I made the mistake of paying the light bill last December. They spent hundreds of $$ on Xmas and New Year's parties -- most of the food went to waste, and then the lights were about to be shut off. So I paid the light bill, and they were still bitching about not having enough money to do what they wanted to do.

HAH! and I'm the one on Celexa. Hey, I may be suicidal and hear voices and see bats flying around a lot of the time, but am I really the one who is crazy? At least I can balance my checkbook, do my own taxes, and make ends meet.

And I can ALWAYS find my keys and my hairbrush... unless someone else has borrowed them.

I can tell when my blood sugar is too low, and I do something about it. I can tell when I'm having a manic episode, and calm myself down or at least keep to myself until I mellow out. I can deal with the sight of blood, I can drink till I feel good and then stop, and I can live with very, very modest means. I get the job done, and I try not to bitch about it. In stark contrast to my roommates....

Am I crazy? They seem to think I am. Oh, well. Here's a toast to my kind of craziness. Long may it reign.

Bright Blessings,
Lil