If a cow ever got the chance...

D*NMN*R drugged me with his ADD medication. At my request, I should add. So that I can check end-of-line hyphenation and confirm pagination and twinning in Careers in Food Service Careers, or whatever, without checking my e-mail every thirty seconds or watching the clock change from 2:21 to 2:22 to 2:23.

He said it made him able to do boring things efficiently and painlessly, suppressed his appetite (causing him to eat like one orange and half a salad per day), and had a mild antidepressant effect to boot. This is the third day and so far I just feel twitchy and slightly nauseated (and yesterday, so logey that I could barely form sentences). Perhaps experimenting on one's brain is a bad idea? A few more days should give us the answer.

Since I can't rely on my dealer forever, I did ask the doctor to prescribe it for me. I told her everything--the honest truth--about how I can't concentrate at work for more than a few minutes lately and used to get so bored as a small child that it was almost physically painful. The only part I left out was the one about having started taking the medication already... She said, "It sounds like you could have ADD. Either that, or you just hate your job." Bingo. She's going to give me some free samples and we'll see how it goes.

Here is a picture that D*MNN*R's phone took of me, which he says makes me look like Igor, and which will probably take forever to load since I don't know how to make it any smaller:

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