I feel like the worst blogger in the world, but I literally have done nothing. No stitching and no house upgrades or even cleaning (although I've been paying my credit cards down like gangbusters, so, if I keep up this pace, my new house could be less than a year away)! What has happened is that my neurologist has taken me off Xanax and put me on Klonopin, despite my fervent protests. I did NOT want to take another zombie drug, but he didn't give me a choice (that was a very weird appointment, by the way, he's never acted dismissive to me before, but I'm in such a state, I couldn't react back, so I ended up with a prescription I didn't want). Needless to say, I'm about 75% zombified now and, although I hate it, I hate it in such a way that there is a tiny little me inside sreaming her lungs out and, I can hear her, I just don't respond. I just trudge through my day, letting everything roll off my back. My Sister keeps telling me this should make ...