I ended up taking a vicodin around seven last night.  I also had to use advair twice this week - but both time it ended my asthma cough in an hour.  Today I got up feeling okay.  A little pain but with a cup of coffee I'm feeling good.  I got a three page cease and desist letter yesterday from some crazy woman in Florida saying she has registered the phrase "secrets of influence" - First of all that's ridiculous - it is WAY too common a phrase.  Second, I don't even use the stupid phrase.  ONly in one place was in incorrectly listed as the subtitle of my book.  People can be pathetic.My agent wants me to write about changing my lifestyle.  I'll begin to use this diary to do some of that and see what happens.It was 3 in the afternoon and I still hadn't brushed my teeth and my underwear was on inside out.  I have done that on purpose - stuck overnight in some godforsaken airport - but this time it was not by choice.  I got up in a rush to let workmen in and must have put them on inside out in my sleepy state.  However, having discovered it I simply did not have the energy to fix it.  Some with brusing my teeth - my hands hurt - I'd have to get up or stand up longer and I just didn't care that much.  I have energy to make coffee and drink it - after that the priorities are distraction and connection.  If I can write an email to someone to read one (better) I don't feel the pain.  If I can save the strength in my hands to cut fabric and upholster a window seat I'd rather do that.  I did eventually brush my teeth and fix my underwear - once I was aware of it, had deemed it pathetic.  I refuse to be pathetic.  Addiction is pathetic.  Not other people's but the potential of my addiction I deem pathetic.  It helps innoculate me against overusing vicodin to think that way.  I see myself as strong and so when I want to control my own behavior I reframe it as "not like me."  It works.  I'm machine like in that way.  I've tinkered with my mental habits for so long I almost have an instuction manual.What I can't seem to reach is my subconsious and my body.  They refuse to succumb to conscious effort.  They have their own intelligence and control tower that remains locked to me.  My body has staged a revolt from day one.  Skin and asthma problems as a child and young adult.  Then my hair fell out with every emotional trauma.  Skin again as herpes spread to my extremetie.  Then this - fibromyalgia.  A refusal to work hard for mean people, refusal to continue denying my fear of being center stage and responsible for hundreds of people saying at the end of my talk, "That was GREAT"  A lot of pressure requires a lot of denial.  Now I just don't care as much - progress, I think.  It doesn't seem to affect the quality of my presentation.  On the contrary, I'm getting better by the few accounts of recent times.  I turned down gigs that I don't feel like doing - so that's a factor too.  It takes more effort to do a good job when I have a bad attitude in the first place.  I work with a law firm next week and I will enjoy the challenge.  I have low hanging fruit with lawyers and they are smart enough to grasp a second way of thinking and use dual thinking without feeling completely threatened that their habits are wrong - they are simply enhanced.See...I think my memoir would be boring.  Nobody gives a shit about this stuff.