Day one of the social experiment begins. The experiment is to leave a bipolar person mostly alone for 9 days with nothing but a well-stocked larder, a mousetrap, and the Internet. The hypothesis is that one of three outcomes will occur:
1) he falls into a deep depression and fails to see daylight or shower for the entire time.
2) he remains surprisingly positive without tipping into a mood swing, one way or the other.
3) he decides that tonight is a great opportunity to scan 25 years of photos into the computer, then drinks too much coffee, and pushes himself into a manic spell, which is followed by the inevitable crash.
Mrs. Fish and Nicole are vacationing in Hippietown (where we lived for several years, which you would already know had you been following my ramblings for the past 10 years). I dropped them at the airport at 0-dark-30, then I took the car for some repairs, then I started looking at slides and photos to scan. In the meantime I offered to go to breakfast with the Dan The Man-Child, and he picked the Taco Bell drive through. Oh well, at least he inherited the “cheap” genes.
I will not actually be alone during the next 9 days. Dan is here, although I don’t see him very often due to work and school schedules. I want to talk to him about school and trying to find a better job when he is done, but it always seems so awkward to get that conversation rolling. Often I don’t know what to talk about with him.
Also keeping me company will be the anguished spirits of the mice that will soon be dead. There have been nocturnal scuttlings in the ceiling for a couple of months. I wanted to kill the mice, but Nicole and I both think they are cute. Nicole is against killing any animal, and the cats aren’t doing their job, so I am taking the opportunity to do the dirty job while she is gone. I placed a little peanut butter in the trap, and started thinking how much I like peanut butter, and when I licked the knife I almost looked up to see if there was a gleaming instrument of death poised to strike me down. I feel bad, but it has to be done.
I tell myself I won’t stay up too late scanning tonight. I have all rainy weekend, and I don’t have to look presentable until the fish-in-laws take Dan and I out for dinner Sunday. As a non-believer, I don’t celebrate Easter, but the fish-in-laws are mildly religious. I was surprised to realize Dan has basically given up going to church and reading his bible, because he was pretty far into the cult a couple years ago. I wonder what happened, but again I don’t know how to start that conversation.
Just 50 more sets of negatives to scan, then check the mousetrap, then sleep for 2 hours. Then more coffee.
So. Much. Coffee.