I’m on a walk on a gorgeous day trying to run my energy down because I’m on methylprednisolone and it’s got my energy and anxiety keyed up through the roof. I’m on methylprednisolone (it’s just fun to type out) at my mother’s behest because I’ve been having headaches for a couple weeks, as astute readers of this blog know (there are none of you) and she believes a course of it will help. Maybe it’s helping, maybe it’s doing nothing, but I’m feeling better so it’s at least not hurting, although it’s got me moving at a thousand miles a minute while also paradoxically keeping me completely still, or at least capable only of very intentioned tasks like “go for a walk,” less “holding a conversation.” It’s not a drug I would like to be on again anytime soon. The headache is almost certainly the injury from a few posts back and it’s clearing up although I miss the gym terribly. The past few months have been a desperate search for a routine; every time I think I’ve found one it seems to fall apart a few days later, which is just what I suppose life is but nevertheless. Later today I’m going to do a photoshoot with a friend (not that kind of photoshoot, not that kind of friend, get your mind out of the gutter) because I need a new professional headshot. Beyond that I guess I am just still “resting,” whatever that means. I hate rest, but that might just be the methylprednisolone talking.