About six months ago I had planned a few days touring the Everglades. It didn't happen, as the risk of Covid-19 infection exceeded any realistic travel benefit. I did not feel particularly deprived, more disappointed. Moreover, I had fall, winter, and spring holidays in sight, events that usually restore my perspective. Those have mostly come and gone.
I find myself back on Celexa after an extended drug holiday to tame my increasingly critical disposition. It has helped. I'm still ornery, having trouble focusing on tasks, deriving at best limited pleasure from what goes well and excessive irritation from the inevitable frustrations.
In my working years similar interludes cropped up. They signaled time to request a week's vacation, generally overdue and a couple months in the future. Having a firm date with a need to plan what I would like to do generally reframed my disposition adequately. The set time always arrived. People around me wished me a good time away. That's how I feel now. Need to set a time to escape and a place to travel to.
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