I don't like it.
I've been trying to jar myself back into alignment by keeping busybusybusy this weekend. Yesterday I baked (and froze) this multi-component cake for Thursday's
It's not working. When I lie on the floor in front of the fireplace, the room spins. I am riddled with anxiety over I-know-not-what. On the theory that a moving target gathers no moss (or something), I have a feeling I'm going to keep being busy until it goes away.
Send tequila and Ambien.