I won't bore you with the things I try to do in order to maintain a somewhat healthy patina. I dabble in a lot of usual exercises and elixirs that I'm certain many in my age cohort partake in.

But I've been doing a lot less of those things lately. I've been eating lousy and not exercising, which has caused me to put on some weight and feel rather uncomfortable. I haven't socialized with anyone outside of the internet for months. My white beard has come to resemble that of a grizzled old prospector.

Having said all of that, my mental health has been steady, and I haven't approached anything near feeling depressed in a long while. I still have my moments, but they're fewer and farther between these days.

Lexapro has been a part of my mental health routine for the past few years. It's helped chip away at my overall anxiety - at least enough to make me a functioning member of society. (it helped me feel comfortable driving again, for example) And while I really, truly the side effects of SSRIs, I figured it was worth it for me to keep moving along in life.

Earlier this week, I got a text from my pharmacy that my refill for Lexapro was ready for pickup. Now, nothing is shocking about what the American healthcare system is willing to foist upon its citizenry. But when I saw that my 90-day supply of drugs would cost me $112 compared to the $15 I paid in December, my whole body seized up in anger.

And while it was reported that a ransomware group hit UnitedHealth's technology division (no love lost there) and disrupted some pharmacies' ability to process prescriptions, I don't know if that would be responsible for such a dramatic increase in the cost of my meds.

Look: I know everyone hates BigPharm. And I wish that I didn't have such an intimate, expensive relationship with them. But right now, the alternatives aren't much better. Ideally, I'd like to ween myself off of everything and go au naturel. But I'm not sure what my body is capable of these days and whether it could handle withdrawal.

You've got me hooked, you big dummies. Congrats.

I took the afternoon off on Friday and went for a run. My runs in the last year or so have been fewer and further between, thanks to excuses I've made for myself and energy levels not being where they used to be. I huffed and puffed for about 3 miles, maybe walking a third of it. And every time I'm finished - no matter how much I ran - I feel better about things. I'm sure it has a lot to do with the dopamine rush that I'm forever chasing. (there's research stating that Autistic people have higher levels of dopamine dysfunction than Neurotypicals) But I'm really glad I made time for it, and can't wait to get back out there.

I've bought an irresponsibly high number of concert tickets for this year, with plans to buy a few more. It's a huge gamble for me since I'm known for buying tickets for shows and never attending them because my anxiety acts up.

I'm not necessarily trying to prove my mettle. I could think of better ways to do that without teetering on bankruptcy. Live music is truly one of my favorite things in the world. And there are some acts I've waited years to see: Luna, Pixies, PJ Harvey, and (hopefully) Willie Nelson. And there are others I will see every time they're in town: Ride, Belle and Sebastian. It's like the running thing: there's lots of anticipatory dread leading up to it. But once I'm in the act, everything's alright.

Love a good ghost sign. Spotted this one 5 years ago today(!) over on the Northside, near Broadway and 2nd Street. I had just bought my first car in decades and decided to explore what's left of the industrial area over there. If you look closely, there are still a few cool relics around town not terribly bothered by gentrification or hyper-urbanization.

Also: I need to go out and take more pictures.

m u s i c b r e a k

The Saints - This Perfect Day (1977)

The perfect punk song: uptempo, snotty, and short.

Take care,

-AG