I rolled out of bed sometime around 6:30 am. Like most of my generation and anyone who has ever gone to school Monday to Friday, I dread Mondays. I don’t professionally have a reason why. After all, I am the worst at psychology–I lived with my depression, Bi Polar II and probably anxiety untreated for decades because I just thought that’s how everybody do. So I go through my morning (I originally spelled it, “mourning,” and maybe that’s also true) routine, got my coffee, sat down, tooled about on the internet and then clocked in and went to work writing…
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