Perhaps I should better occupy my time and sort out my new visa application, but at this point in time, my body and mind tells me to not care about it.
Or perhaps I should do some yoga - because its already the 8th of January (OMG Really?!) and I haven't had a proper exercise done yet. Yet to rejoin the gym. Yet to run down Sandy Bay Road on a hot day. Yet to attend zumba and body combat.
Or perhaps I should read up my previous therapeutic notes and remind myself about the drugs I see at work everyday. Or maybe not. The last thing I want to do on a weekend is anything related to work. But my conscience screams to remind me that I cannot go far if I don't recall my memory of things I've learnt in uni. That is not doing justice to patients, nor to my hard-earned certificate. But, really, do I have to study on a weekend? No, not really right?!
I was just reading a book that I have recently bought on boxing day, titled "Dying for a cure", authored by a lady who was misdiagnosed with postnatal depression leading to her taking mountains of anti-depressants which was supposedly going to be the perfect "cure" to her "depression", which in fact her diagnosis was wrong at the first place. It was pretty cool that the biography even quoted statistics from studies!
But anyway, reading this book reminds me that in the midst of my regular dispensing of Sertra, Efexor and Zoloft, I mustn't shatter my barrier against psychiatric medications. They are too regularly prescribed nowadays and it is my personal opinion that this should not happen. We are yet to know whether these drugs will do any serious harm in the long term, and we also do not know whether these drugs really do benefit.
And yes, it took me a good 1/2 hour to write this post - its past 9 already - meaning in Maria's world, I am officially entitled to sleep legally.
Heeeeeeeeeeeeeee ;))
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