A psychic once told me. Let me back up. I don’t believe all psychics are psychic. I think a lot are more intuitive-based and can ask leading questions and/or offer platitudes people want to hear. But I met one. She was the real deal. The moment I met her. Without me saying a word. “You…

That song. In my head. That, of course, you can’t hear. It won’t stop. It’s on a loop. Only I don’t really remember the words. Just the first line of the chorus. This one. I’m 54 years old. (I had to do the math.) I’m an adult now. I mean sure, when I was in…

Sixty to minus ten in five minutes. A new record. But I’m bouncing back. Or I will. No, I am. Food and sleep. That’s what I need. In that particular order. Glad I picked up a lasagne at St. Lawrence Market today. I was today years old when I learned (through spell check) that it’s…

(This was the post I’d thought was eaten a few nights ago. This does not reflect my current state of mind. I’m choosing to post it because I’ve got nothing to hide.) Knock. Knock. Ahem. Knock. Knock. Who’s there? Me. Me who? It’s me. Harold. Oh. Fuck. You’re not welcome tonight, Harold. I’m always welcome.…

You know what I miss? Movie theatre hot dogs. With mustard. Random, I know. We’re in our third Covid “lockdown” (loosely speaking). Theatres haven’t been open since last year. God, I miss going to the movie, getting a hot dog and a giant diet coke, and sitting down to a blockbuster film. I totally would’ve…

I’ve started increasing the dosage. So far, little effect. It’s been a day. Sheesh. Give it a chance. Granted, I dragged myself out for the second day in a row to walk Auggie at a consistent time. I think that’s what I need to do. Law and Order at 5pm (don’t judge me) and walk…

I talked with my psychiatrist today about increasing my medication. Yeah, that was a conversation I’d been dreading. Because there’s that little voice (shut up, Harold) that says you must be failing if you need to up your meds. It might kill my writing spark. Or it might have the opposite effect. I’m just tired…

I just wrote a fucking mind-bending post about Harold coming back. WordPress ate it. I can’t recreate it. I was looking to insert a video. Only WordPress wanted me to upgrade, which. No. I really felt vulnerable in the post. Giving Harold voice on the screen, and not just in my head. And it’s gone.…

More days like today please. Wasn’t falling asleep on my face all morning. Two clients sent in work requests, which I handled with ease and aplomb. (I like that word. Aplomb. Why don’t we use it more often?) Had a productive rehearsal with the cast for Last Call. Grooved with Jim Clayton Jazz on Facebook.…