Gusty winds up to 40 mph are clanging my heaviest chimes on the deck and bringing today's almost balmy temperatures down, down, down. January in Mississippi... maybe Mother Nature needs an antipsychotic. Makes knowing how to dress a real challenge.

I spent a lot of time today singing and memorizing lyrics to the songs we're doing Friday night. David is planning to have them all projected on the back wall for us, but I'll do better if I don't have to depend on that. I'm only in 3 of them - Kool and the Gang's "Celebration," Manhattan Transfer's "Boy from New York City," and Emmylou Harris' "Mr. Sandman," which I already knew. Did I do that with LaRue and Willene, or did I imagine that?

I've about decided that "Mercedes Benz" would be out of place in the program that's been planned. It's all doo-wop stuff. I may save it for the Parish Hall gala where things get a little more rowdy, depends on whether I have one glass of wine or two. I'll probably just totally chicken out on the whole idea. Tonight it seems a little manic. I've been having some of that since getting off the anti-depressants. My range of emotions has been all over the place, but they seem to be settling down somewhat. I've had two or three good cries, something I didn't do when I was on Zoloft.

One of those good cries happened yesterday when I started reading old journals. I was trying to find out exactly when it was I started Zoloft. It was shortly after I retired, November 1999. I was on 50 mg for about 4 years then 3 months before Mike had his stroke, it was increased to 100 mg. What made me cry was the Dear Abby list I came across, you know the one - Are you better off with him or without him. The advantages and disadvantages were perfectly balanced. Now all the advantages are gone except one, we can still afford for me not to have to work. That's incredibly sad, to see it in black and white and realize that most of the advantages are gone. At least, I'm not crying about it tonight.