And Then, The Voice In My Head Said…

This afternoon I drove me and Bow Tie o’ the Day 27 miles (one way) on I-15 and through the Salt Lake valley to Daybreak– to an appointment with my crazy-head doctor, who helps me keep my bipolarity as level as it can be. I was wary that this whole surgery/recovery episode would toss my head into turmoil. I worried that at some point along this medical adventure my head would swing into dramatic depression or dramatic mania. But it’s been ok. Maybe sleeping a bunch has kept me from thinking too much. I’ve been too wiped-out to focus my thinking about bigly ideas. My bipolar head needs a vacation from the depths of my brain occasionally, and it appears that’s exactly what  exhaustion is supplying it with right now. Anyhoo… For the drive to my appointment, I wrapped my tiny pillow against my belly and seat belted it in across me. My longer, faster drive felt normal. Except for the pillow. I had the car window down, and I sang along with my tunes, over-the-top loudly. For that, I apologize to any drivers whose ears got damaged while in my voice’s vicinity. My own ears are injured from listening to myself belt out arias. My not-mellifluous voice even sprained my hearing aid. Excuse me–hearing “device.” 👂🏻 🎼

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