Sit. Stay. Good Julia.

You can buy your very own print of Picasso's "Rest" here. 

Aw, crumb. I hate it when I have to be responsible.

I have put myself on a self-imposed house arrest. One thing I've learned over the years is that sometimes there's nothing else to do but to plant my butt in bed or on the couch for a few days when I crash. Nothing else works as effectively as rest. Pure and simple.

Wouldn't it be great if we could put therapeutic rest into a capsule, pill or elixir? It's tempting to start swilling down caffeine or popping no-doze, but I know without a doubt that when I ignore the clear symptoms of an impending crash and artificially boost my energy levels with caffeine or denial, my crash is simply of a longer duration and of much worse severity.

I really really want to sneak out of the house and zip off in Goldie - but from whom, exactly, would I be sneaking away from? Certainly not from my Bratty Inner Child Julia - she'd be the one behind Goldie's wheel. And not John, either. He actually trusts me to be a responsible person in the management of my disease. Mags and Lulu don't care who is driving any car...they want to be in it regardless with heads hanging out of the windows.

Ah. Guess there's nothing to do but to do it. ZZzzzzzzzzzz.