I had rather a manic episode today. I mean in the actual bipolar sense. It wasn't too bad. It made me extremely hyper, gave me an attention span that would have made goldfish proud of theirs, and caused me to flail my arms and scream about toupees. (I was listening to a song called "Purple Toupee" at the time, so it sort of made sense, but still.)

I couldn't really focus on my projects, and I was trying to write several things (including something for that John Lennon project, as I'm referring to it as). And knit. And draw. And hold text conversations with my friends and acquaintances (though I did that with frightening lucidity; never let it be said that I am/was the sort of crazy person whose speech was unintelligable and incoherent.) I wasn't really able to focus on things, though, so I mostly ran around the house (which was thankfully empty) and yelled. The sort of happy yelling that one does when one is silly. And singing. I sang a lot. Mostly They Might Be Giants songs.

I calmed down once I realized that I had to get around to writing my John Lennon song. So I just sat down at the piano and sort of...I don't know, sort of hammered stuff out, I suppose. (I use the phrase "hammered out" quite a bit, actually.) And then I gradually became more focused and settled down and got actual stuff done. Yes.

You know, I think this is the first time I've ever really described bipolar disorder in detail on this blog. So, uh, have a description of what I'm like when I'm rather manic. I'm not a frightening insane person or anything. Just rather off-kilter and prone to screaming about toupees.

Anyhow. Tomorrow's an exciting day for me because I'm finally going in to shoot the interview/song for the John Lennon project. I wrote the song today (yes, the "hammering out" thing, that was when I did it). It's a rather convenient fact that the same time of my life when my personal appearance has become actually relevant (such as giving authors' pictures or being in videos and stuff) is also the same time of my life when I begin dressing respectably ("respectably" being a word which here means "wearing cardigans, button-up shirts, and ties pretty much every day"). It's nice. My aesthetic can be now described as "nice professor guy" (which an acquaintance of mine said was "the best fashion label ever") and I finally look like the sort of writer I probably am. I'm not quite certain. (Well. I feel as though I've spent too much time talking about my personal appearance here and I feel vaguely embarrassed. Anyhow.)

Things are becoming interesting in my life, then, I suppose. At least I have projects. I'm really alive when I've got projects, I suppose. Things are going okay, even if I do have moments of mania. Yes.