And I'm not cheering up today, especially since I just bought a screwfit daylight bulb. Aaaargh! Who has screwfit lights? Nobody, that's who. I suppose I'll have to change it tomorrow. That, and buy the Secret diary of Irene Powell, aged 17 in 1925... if I can make it through the crowds. It's getting a bit mad out there.
Anyway,
damiancugley finally took pity on me and told me what Google suggest is for. It's an ego check. How much of your name do you have to type in before it suggests you? ...which leaves me feeling smug as Zaphod Beeblebrox after he ate the cupcake.Fortified by this, I feel motivated to share my self-care regime for encroaching depression.
- Sleep deprivation Sleep between one and three hours a night less. Spend that extra time either pratting around doing nothing in particular, or... </li>
- Set self impossible task It's impossible, right? No chance you'll get it done? No need to agonise over it, then. I'm doing my shelves at the moment. In toto.
- Chocolate, caffeine, crisps The holy trinity of comfort food. Veer between this and (when you need displacement) cheerless healthy food involving lots of carrots.
- Keep moving, bitch Get up as soon as possible, keep doing stuff all day (start new projects/do less crucial work, don't want to wreck anything that matters), only go to bed when ready to drop.
- Get off/on your bike Endorphins good, adrenalin bad. I compromise by walking briskly.
- Drink to drunk Better to cry over the pointlessness of everything when pissed than do it in the cold rational light of sobriety. Apply sparingly, and don't bother making it anything good. You won't appeciate it.
On the lyrics quiz, the following artists remained unidentified:
