It's Monday? How did that happen so fast?

It's 8:50 a.m.

If I still had a job, I would be 50 minutes late now. But, since I got fired AGAIN the day after Thanksgiving due to this bipolar nonsense in my life, I will not be late today.

I fell asleep last night thinking, "Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up early as if I have to be at a job on time. I am my own employer. I must respect that fact. I will get up, throw my clothes on, and take my computer to the room that is supposed to be my office. That way, I won't be tempted by the TV in the other room. I will get things done today."

This morning I woke up with a foggy headache. Probably due to taking Ambien last night, even though I cut it in half as my pdoc suggested after Ambien was in the news recently as often being prescribed as too many miligrams.

I figured I deserved to lie down for a few more minutes and let the headache medicine kick in.

Turned the light on in my bedroom (which I rarely do) because it's kind of dark and rainy outside. Dark and rainy isn't good. That always drags me right down.

Now I'm unable to lie down for a few minutes because I'm Googling the apartment complex my son now wants to move to.

After several aborted attempts to move out since right before Christmas, he thinks they have finally found a place that will work. It doesn't look like a very nice place. It's in an OK area. Kind of tucked away on a side street. It's only 3 miles from me.

But as I'm looking at the photos of the apartment's interior on their website, and how it hasn't been updated for many years (old appliances, old carpet, dreary paint), I'm thinking, "He'd rather live in THAT than at home with me?"

So now I'm back to feeling sorry for myself about the possibility of him moving out very soon. I'm not in as bad a shape as I was when he first told me he was ready to move out. I was crying constantly then.

I keep telling myself, "Well, you rarely see him NOW and he lives here. Why would it be that much different?"

I'll be alone with the pets.

I just pray my elderly dog doesn't die on me. That would be the final blow in this whole mess.

So what does a soon-to-be-empty-nester do?

Many empty-nesters have a partner to go through this with. Not me. It's been me and the kid on our own his entire life.

Maybe I should use this experience and my pain to help others. Do some research. Write a book. Get it out there and sell it online. Land on the Today show with Kathie Lee and Hoda. Drink some wine with those chicks.

Maybe I should force myself to become more structured, since my therapist told me bipolar people NEED structure. Back before we ended our sessions (because I no longer have insurance), she said she was worried about me working from home because I would lack structure.

So I need to put structure back into my life.

I should schedule a time to wake up, no matter what (and stop hitting snooze repeatedly).

I should schedule blocks of time to work on specific projects. If I don't, these projects won't get done. I won't finish writing projects and then I won't make the money that these projects should bring in.

I should schedule more lunches and coffees with friends in person..

I should schedule more phone calls with friends who are far away, but have similar businses interests.

I'm no good at friendships, though, so those last two items might be difficult.

I should schedule time to get out of this dreary, dirty house and go to the gym that I joined that's about 3 minutes away.

I should schedule blocks of time to declutter this house.

I'm full of what I should do, but when I look around it's just too much so I either go back to bed, or I grab my computer and go sit at a coffee shop.

I'm just babbling. Feel free to ignore me. I'm not thinking of doing anything dangerous to myself. I'm just wondering how I'm going to get through life when I frequently go 1 or 2 weeks without seeing or touching any humans besides my son. And I usually have to beg for a tiny hug.