After the Fall II

Part of the danger of ceramics and a deep ceramic sink, demonstrated here:

One handmade soda-fired mug less (fewer?) in this world.

So back to the doctor yesterday. Back on the blood pressure medication, day two, which is already causing me problems. (Dizziness, light-headedness, nausea about three hours after taking it. I couldn't take a blood pressure reading for a few hours after I started feeling this way--was away from home--but by the time I was feeling "normal" again, my blood pressure was still a little on the low side. I'm assuming the meds are working too well.) Fuck. Why can't anything be just super duper simple? Without any side effects, I mean.

The doctor also suggested, based on some test results, that I start on a dairy-free and very low-fat diet. No dietician available to give a hand with that, of course, which stresses me out. But I've decided to try anyway.

And then there was therapy today. I'm glad to be in therapy. It was kind of the highlight of my day, believe it or not. I want to have three hour therapy sessions every day, minimum. I want to spend all day in therapy actually. I want to just move into one of the empty offices in the building and wake up in the morning, fix a cup of coffee and some toast, and start therapy. Have lunch, more therapy. Dinner, a little therapy. Brush my teeth, therapy, then bed. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I want to have the option of therapy. Then I want to get up in the morning and do it all over again. I want to start talking and not stop talking until everything is fixed.  Finally fixed.

That's a reasonable goal, isn't it? Perfection?