I notice I had another pause around this time last year, so it may simply be an Autumn thing.
My depression is much better, thank you. I'm liking fluoxetine better than sertraline, & am about ready to take on the world again.
My poor old ginger tom cat is still with us, but visibly fading now. I will miss him terribly, but so badly want to move house & have been putting it off because he's been 'dying' for the past two years.
My complaint about a colleague had interesting repercussions. Most interestingly the management didn't side behind him, which, having learned the anatomy of workplace bullying from several experts at it, surprises me. I was all ready for a full scale battle, but believe that since I've learned that one I don't need to keep Tim Field's Bully in Sight anymore: this is one that isn't going to keep coming round.
The 'pagan community' is a continuing source of irritation to me. If it was anyone other than me I would query whether that person wasn't a team player. Or maybe it's just a witch thing.
There are two 'Passages' - Congreve & Coleridge - in Brum that carry writers' names but I have been unable so far to find out whether that was actually how they were named.
The present state of the former Grande Hotel in Mozambique is not a result of either blacks' inability to run things or the political instability of the country (both of these pieces of nonsense are bandied around on the internet), but rather the result of the colonials' greed. The hotel *never* made a profit & could not be supported by the resources of holidaymakers at that end of the continent.
I'm watching Ross Kemp on Gangs. Yum.
Anyway, all of these things make me think that things are moving on in me & around me, & that fortunately my year of the Hanged Man is drawing to a close. Of course this means that next year my year card is Death, so I'm bound to be all at sixes & sevens!
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