Oh, god. It's closing in on 10:30 p.m. and I am about to turn off the puter and the lights and snuggle up tight .... and set the alarm ... so I can go back to work Monday, my first day there since Nov. 17, thanks to some hospital time and a 2-week pdoc-instituted "vacation" at home.

I am remarkably well rested, for all my time off , but I'm afraid I'm going right back into the situation I left that got me in the shape I was in. So I've had some extra time with a zillion shrinks and got some of my meds upped. Grand.

But nothing at work has changed -- it's all the same people, and my boss, who was largely the cause of all this crap in the first place -- I don't know what to expect from her anymore. We clearly don't have the relationship I thought we did, so I don't know what's real anymore, or what to expect, and I HATE that.

And I'm going back into this totally poisonous atmosphere where everybody is freaked out over what's going to happen when the new "big boss" starts after New Year's. Is he going to clean house? What are the odds of all of us still having jobs by February? How's he going to run the place? It's scary enough dealing with that, but to go back to the same sniping and backbiting and cliquishness and everything else that exists there -- I don't know if there's enough Klonopin in the world to get me through it.

And, I don't have any sleeping pills, darn it. But I do have a nice relaxation CD, which I am going to put into my Walkman and hope it works. Wish me luck!

Candy