Every day has its humour

Today:

1. Listening to Bob & Sheri reruns getting ready this morning and being brought to a total halt listening to one of the world's only jazz bagpipers, Rufus Harley and a woman's description of the intricacies of dog dancing. (My brain cannot purge the picture of her wheeling a terrier out in a red wagon done up like the Titantic, with the terrier dressed in the famous necklace from the film, then taking a backflip off the bow.)
   
2. Me: What's that on the salad bar? (Pointing at an intensely purple creamy dish).
   Dwana: It looks like blueberry yoghurt. (Pause). Or Barney diarrhoea. (This made my day. I'll never be able to look at Barney or blueberry yoghurt again without thinking of Barney poop. Mind you, I had blueberry yoghurt for lunch, just the kind already in the cup.) And for those of you who may not know, Barney is an insipid purple dinosaur that toddlers love and adults hate. A lot.
   
3. A keychain for Dwana's stepfather (who calls most people freaks): 'Too many freaks, not enough circuses'.
   
4. The sad commentary on a burgeoning population (in girth rather than number) in that the local gas station has ready-made sandwiches in a case with drinks on the top shelf, because of course people are too lazy to walk six feet to the drink case for a pop.
   
5. Wrestling with a friend's alternate persona that specifically exists to let him sleep, with a complete conversation that he doesn't remember taking place, with Zul, the entity who never knows the capital of Bolivia, patently leading me astray so that I don't bother the Master.
   
6. Brian & Sticky's dramatic radio theatre show where they read 'Rex Morgan, MD' (a soap opera comic with usually 2 or 3 frames, tops) each day. Today's challenge: audition Sticky for the part of the kid hanging on a cliff face without him using (in their words) the 'prison rape' voice. (Man, I'm going to get strange hits from search engines on that one).
   

I'm sure there were more, but those are the ones that stick out. No matter what life gives you, you can look at it two ways: as an incredibly stress-wracked test you're never sure you'll pass, or material for one big monologue that shouldn't be taken too seriously. I prefer the latter, because it keeps me sane. If I can't find something funny about a day (and face it, even the smallest things can be an adventure, especially if Dwana and I are together), then you know I've sunk back into the depths of depression.

PS On a bit of a serious note, at some point today Dwana and I were talking about the paralysing, scary 'emotional storms' I used to have, the ones where I'd have to talk myself into holding out another 20 minutes without driving into a wall/slashing my wrists/something else stupid. She said they were a form of panic attack, and that does make a lot of sense--and explains why they got better with the Paxil, since that's one of the things it treats. Yay, Paxil. The odd thing is that I forgot to take it for probably a week (yes, I know, stupid...but it was an oops) and it was the week of PMS...and I felt fine. I'm thinking I might actually be able to go down in dose, although I'll probably not be off of it entirely, due to the OCD. But I did fine in crowds during the July 4th festivities, having panicked, haven't had too much trouble focusing, and only one mild headache as withdrawal, etc....although I have had trouble sleeping. Anyway, once I recognised my mistake (and transferred the medicine into one container as a reminder), I took it, and so I'm back on track. Still, maybe I've found other ways to cope with the anxiety issues with therapy and the non-depressed outlook on life. Hmmm...