|06:35 am - what am I doing up at 5:30am|
Wakefulness, since I didn't get to bed until 2am. I won't call it insomnia because I can sleep, and do. Yesterday I had the most intense dream about being sent to rehab at a childhood friend's house, where part of the curriculum was sleeping in a tent in the basement and drinking. Gah. Fodder-for-the-novel, as I like to say.
It's not the coffee since I continue to successfully work on restricting my intake back to my pre-citalopram level of 16oz or so a day (down from a pot or two). It's also something I'm going to note but not worry about until it lasts for longer than two days. If I'm still up at dawn in a month or so, I'll shade into concern.
Yesterday was a trip to the library, then cleaning the kitchen floor in a burst of nervous energy. This in addition to several loads of laundry and the usual dishes, trash/recycle disposal and cat-box cleaning. So my hopes that the fatigue would ease are both founded and being realized, it seems. Good news.
Side effects also include continued muscle stiffness (but less soreness today), twitching and restlessness. I seem to be able to focus the latter into productivity, though. Also I'm more talkative than usual, in my estimation. I keep babbling at my brother and the cats, and actually inserted myself into a conversation at the gelato shop yesterday. <- it is to boggle