Victory is an illusive whore

Tori says, and I must agree.  Six flea bombs later and I'm still getting bitten.  A box of borax, moth balls, carpet spray, cedar.  I've decided maybe I can train them in a grand circus act.  Can't tell them apart unfortunately, so I've only named the ones I killed in my cup of soap water--Blinky, Inky, Tetchy, Dot....

I believe I may be switching meds again.  At this point, my psychiatrist has recommended I augment my drugs with other quacky things.  I imagine the litebook people were ecstatic to receive an order for a sun lamp in September--after all it's usually for people with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).  However since I am sad all the time, well, I'll give it a whirl.  

In other, even less fun news, my hours at work are being chopped to a minimum.  Next week I'm only working 28 hours!  How can I afford to pay my bills on that?  Sigh, at least I have a job, I suppose.  Cheers...