The days have gone by quickly or maybe slowly. My sleep is coming back to me, maybe I just needed to acclimate to the brain meds for anxiety. No, my anxiety isn't any better, but at least I can sleep again. All of the parrots have been quiet, maybe it's the loss of the dogs, after the initial couple of days where the parrots called for the dogs repeatedly and they never showed up I think they gave up. My legs are getting worse again. Not great news is it. The pain is back double fold and it's all of the burning throbbing pain that I haven't really had too much of this last month. Today I woke up to find that the cat (I'm almost positive it was Mishka) tipped over the trash and dragged trash through three rooms. Thank god for wooden floors. Yes, there are five cats here right now, but my daughters cats wouldn't have done it, they do not eat human foods. It's my big baby, Mishka, he's a male siamese that weighs eighteen pounds. I've never heard of a siamese getting so huge, but there you go. He's shamelessly naughty. Took me half an hour to clean what I can reach. I thought I'd get so much more done with the daughter taking this break but I haven't done anything more than sleep and read. Lots of reading. No writing. My life can't be like this, I didn't travel around the world just to die bed-ridden and without motivation to even write again. Tomorrow I meed with Dr Doppleganger about my brain meds. I don't even know what to tell him. Why don't the aliens expose themselves to humanity and help the oppressed, or are they waiting for us to do it ourselves. I'd rather they came and fixed my legs so that my life could be the way I need it to be.