I don't know what's getting me down, but I can guess. It's probably all this school tension and some work tension-- unresolved interpersonal crap always gets to me. I'm not, like, seriously depressed or anything, just under one of those clouds of general malaise that descends every now and again. I was driving and I said to myself, out loud no less, "Ugh, I'm depressed."

Then I went to the gas station and the car wash and the bank and the store. Finally, I headed to Subway for lunch. I decided to eat there, and grabbed a paper, the West County Times. I opened the page to my horoscope (Pisces). The first sentence of the horoscope was: "Don't be depressed."

Woah!

I don't live by horoscopes or anything, but this one seemed awfully pertinent. I ripped it out of the paper and kept it. It reads, "Don't be depressed. You need to concentrate on your creative projects and not worry so much about what other people are saying or doing. Put your heart and soul into things you enjoy."

So, I think I will spend a little bit of time working on one of my creative projects today. It's true that nothing makes me happier; I spent three hours writing poetry a couple of nights ago, and it was great. Maybe I'll work on something before I have to leave to pick up Jen at the airport. (Her flight is delayed, so I have extra time.)

I've had this experience once before, where a horoscope seemed to be speaking directly to what was going on with me. This was in college, when I was stressing over some criticism from my poetry professor. She had given me some really harsh notes on a manuscript of mine. The horoscope said something like, "Don't take criticism personally, listen to what is really being said and don't give up." At the time, it got to me. So much so, that it marked the turning point for me in learning to accept criticism constructively.

I don't know where that horoscope is at this very moment, but I do know that I have kept it ever since.

I doubt I'm going to carry this horoscope around with me for years, but it's helping me at this very moment. "Don't be depressed." Thanks, universe. Purely coincidental pseudo-scientific hogwash or not, it's mighty good advice.

I think that Cassie is doing better.

She's been sick for a while now, not flying and breathing funny. I've tried to be extra sensitive to issues of warmth and quiet, and I've been trying to feed her lots of millet seed, which is good for her right now. I've also stopped throwing things at her when she starts chirping in the morning.

Of course, I'm kidding. I don't throw things at Cassie. Pigwidgeon, on the other hand...

No, no. I don't throw things at the birds. Sometimes I throw socks at the cage, but that's not the same thing. Anyway, I bought Cassie some antibiotics a while back, but I was reluctant to start her on them. First of all, I'd have to isolate her in the small hospital cage, which would necessitate getting her in there. I am afraid she'll try to take off, and the last time she did that, she crashed into the wall and hurt herself. I'm still not over the guilt of allowing that accident to happen. Secondly, I'm not sure that what she has would be helped by antibiotics.

I am sure an avian vet could diagnose her, but man, I do not want to put her through a trip to the vet right now either. Stress is murder on these tiny little creatures, and the bottom line is, I haven't wanted to stress her out unnecessarily.

For the past week, I've been vigilant about giving her tonic and bitters every day. I've been putting the medicine in weak chamomile tea, which I've been giving her instead of water. (Pidgie seems fine, in case you're concerned. The tonic is supposed to be good for healthy birds as well.) The tonic seems to be working, or else she's just randomly improving, because she seems better. She's not having as much trouble breathing, and she seems happy and in good spirits.

I won't feel better until she's flying around (these days she climbs around instead of flapping her wings) but I am hopeful about her progress nonetheless.

Well, Jen has been and gone, and I have only now gotten the chance to post this entry. An entry about my vacation with Jen will follow shortly. But I do want to pass along, while I'm on the subject of my parakeets, Pigwidgeon's new nickname, coined by the aforementioned Jen: a little blue ball of duh.

"Me: As of right now, I’ll be living in a two bedroom apartment consisting of my car and a cardboard box.

Sei: Wow. I'm impressed you found a place at all."