B-B-B-Benny and the Jets: Anxiety meds and coffee.

It was the longest three seconds I have lived through in many years. Rain-slicked road. Cars stopping short. Me, wheels locked in brake, sliding, slowly...one...two...three...BAM!

As you can see from the last photoblog, my Toyota needs some dental work. Lots of it. Maybe too much of it, I dunno. Billy Bumperfixer shall take a gander at it next week.

This morning I woke up in a mild to moderate panic, anxiety attack on the horizon (not unusual for me sometimes) and yet tired at the same time. I thought about that steaming cup-o-joe that was waiting for my Benevolent Maker Ability. And I thought about that Buspar (anxiolytic) tablet, waiting for me patiently in the yellow bottle in my cabinet.

Then I thought about uppers and downers.

Then I thought about Benny and the Jets. Onaccounta Benny sounds like benzodiazapines, and Jets, well, coffee, d'oh. Made me giggle.

I am poor, but I am alive. Coffee is a good thing. And Buspar rox the igloo as far as I am concerned.

Note to self: It is gonna be okay, No. Really, it is.