LIFE IN THE FAST LANE...Again

I didn't finish the newspapers today. I miss not knowing about what's going on in the world at large and in Philly in particular. I heard about the FBI wiretapping anybody at will, and following peace activists the way they did in the 1970s. No real surprise somehow. With W and his cohorts--I'm sorry the man is not that stupid; he's not being fooled)--it will get worse. Tomorrow night, there's supposed to be a drown-out while W is giving his speech. We're going to be in Bucks County with old friends but if anybody is honking or yelling, I'll be yelling too. (I'm not going out in an empty street and screaming; I'll get arrested. The cops have nothing better to do in the burbs.)
Meanwhile, I'm planning so many activities for January, I hope I remember them. I want to do everything so I hope I remember at least some of them. I'm back into my ACTION mode, hoping I don't take on more than I can handle and also that soooooooomebody reminds me. Usually, nobody does and life just goes on until I realize everything I've missed. Today, I finally ordered $100 worth of mattes, now that their price has crept up to $4.00 for the cheapest, crappiest brand. Of course, in the old days, before I became sort of man-icky, I used to order maybe ten at a time. I guess in years to come, I'll be buying kitty litter in hundred pound bags and storing the bags in the garden..buried. Or maybe the drugs will keep me in line.
Speaking of drugs, I probably mentioned my hair started falling out by the fistful so I spent a morning on here researching my two newest medications and found they both bestow that side-effect, rarely, but it happens. I immediately stopped the Mysoline, which was for my tremor. Better shaky hands than a bald head. And I called the shrink--(which every lupie with half a brain should have because prednisone crosses the blood-brain barrier and lupus itself can make you crazy)--who prescribes the other hair dissolver--Lamictal. In the end, he cut the dosage and hopefully, my hair will get the message.
We Americans are so freaked by psychotherapy and all that stuff and it's so self-destructive. No, I didn't want to go to a psychiatrist but I finally realized my regular doctors were prescribing medications which had all these psychological side-effects and the docs themselves didn't know anything about the side-effects. That was in addition to what they didn't know about Central Nervous System Lupus, which is mostly everything. At least the shrink knows about what prednisone and lupus can do to your head and that's quite a relief when you think you're going nuts. Or having seizures, or can't wake up in the morning, or work anymore.
It's almost 11:30 PM and I borrowed some good books from the Philly library. I can still read. I couldn't for a while and had to build back up to normal books.. Now, I've even ordered The March by Doctorow. Sounds like the brain is working better that way at least. So, off to bed and my book.
The mixed-media painting is um, Poor Self Image.