I'm back to 276. For a few days I pushed it up to 279, but this morning I was back to 276. Difference? Haven't partaken of the Mexican food for two days and the day before yesterday I had Albondigas, which is a really, really good soup.

The mood stabilizer seems to have kicked in. I'm kind of blah most of the time, but there seems to be an edge of anger that hangs over me like that famous sword. I feel like exploding at the slightest provocation, like this morning when the wife commented that Bonita doesn't get wet food at night anymore. It was an innocent comment, but it irritated like hell. We took Bonita off the nighttime full meal because she was getting too heavy. I mean who wants a porky Chihuahua. It certainly isn't good for the dog, but the wife seems to think she needs to fatten up the dog to make her happy.

So, I blew up and told the wife to put Bonita back on the wet food at night and she goes all, "well, aren't you in a good mood this morning." Well, I was trying very hard to have a good morning. I worked on the new story. I read a good portion of "The Gathering." I had some good thoughts, too. I had to work very hard on those, but I managed to get a few in. It's important to think good thoughts when you're plagued with dark clouds.

But, I blew up and ended up feeling bad. The anger worries me. If I can't control it, I may have to think about alternate futures, not that I have much of a future left. At the most, I figure I have about 25 years left. 25 + 58 = 83. My mother was 83 when she died. My dad was 52 when heart failure complicated with stage 4 prostate cancer did him in. My mother's father was 89. My father's father was 59. Cancer lurks on my father's side. Vascular disease seems to plague my mother's side, though she died from breast cancer brought about by a alcohol impaired immune system.

Well, gotta go.