April 4, 2001
Speaking of Bottles


I'm taking my shower in the dark again ... at least temporarily.

It felt like the dead of night when I crawled into the bathroom for my ritual 5:50 a.m. exfoliation/depillitation/all-purpose-hosing-down this morning. One short week ago I was showering in springtime sunshine, while birds chirped gently outside my bathroom window ... and this morning I was back to shampooing my hair with bubble bath. (Special Note to the Makers of Avon Skin-So-Soft Extra-Unfiltered-Petroleum-Formula Bubble Bath: Could you please make your bath products smell a little more like good old stinky Mr. Bubble, and a lot less like L'Oreal Color Vive? When my eyes are closed, all the bottles feel the same.)

The good news, in spite of this minor setback, is that the switch to Daylight Savings Time this year hasn't been nearly as brutal as usual. As time-changes go, in fact, this one has been downright trauma-free. I suppose part of that has to do with the fact that I took Monday off: that gave me one whole extra day to reset all of my clocks, both internal and external. By the time I returned to the office on Tuesday, I had almost completely adjusted to the time change. There wasn't that usual sense of sleep deprivation and *body-clock disorientation* and homicidal rage directed toward the numbskull who invented Daylight Savings Time in the first place.

Which was a nice change of pace.

But I think it also has something to do with the fact that I feel so disgustingly good these days. I noticed it again this past weekend, when David and Jaymi and I were tromping around downtown San Francisco: an overall sense of health and well-being and energy and JOY, as stoopid as that probably sounds (i can actually HEAR my hit counter rolling backwards), enveloping me like stink on cheese. Once or twice I actually had to stop and consciously acknowledge the feeling:

Geez, I feel really good. What's up with THAT? (And is the bus gonna hit me now, or will it wait until I'm in my wedding gown?)

I don't know if it's because of all this clean living/healthy eating we've been indulging in lately (my jeans are getting baggy!) ... or the past couple of anxiety-free/Franz-free months at work (I have fingernails again!) ... or the fact that I am now just slightly more than three months away from marrying someone I'm madly, stoopidly, passionately in love with (I booked our honeymoon hotel today!) ... or if it's all of this stuff shmooshed together. But whatever it is, it's a shame I can't bottle it and put it on the Home Shopping Network.

I'd be a bazillionaire in about a week.

And speaking of bottles: I'm feeling so good these days that I'm once again giving some thought to ditching the St. Johns Wort. Last night I took my last three capsules -- the same 900 mg. dose I've been taking every night for the past fourteen months -- and as I tossed the empty bottle into the trash, I thought Maybe I won't buy a new bottle tomorrow. That would be a savings of $224.10 a year, for one thing. For another thing, the circumstances under which I felt it necessary to reinforce my mood through herbal antidepressants -- namely, working for Franz -- have changed. Plus it would be interesting to see just how much (if any) of this nauseating positive outlook stuff is related to the herbs.

I suspect it's probably very little.

But while I decide on whether or not to renew my herbal "prescription" -- and while I wait for the gentle kiss of daylight to return to my morning Beauty Ritual (which it almost certainly will, in another couple of weeks), I'm going to try to simply relax and enjoy all of these good feelings without overanalyzing them or explaining them to death or worrying too much about where they're coming from (or how long they're going to last). Something tells me that I'm going to look back on this spring as one of the golden periods of my life. I plan to enjoy it.

I plan to also keep my eyes open in the shower from now on.

throw a rock