What if Van Gogh was a mapmaker?

I bet he could put real art into those maps, but it wouldn’t really matter.

So ok, I’m flying high on Ritalin (despite having taken it — 10mg, not 5 — seven hours ago), and I’m probably already delusional (specially since I didn’t have any lamotrigine last night, though I did take my fucking antipsychotic), but I feel I’m pouring real art into this meaningless corporate report, where it’ll go basically to waste.

I feel smart enough right now that I’m afraid there’s a finite amount of “smart points” in my brain and I’m wasting too many of them on all these silly pseudo-academic nitpicking I’m putting in what would be just as well received if it was to do a large-brush paint job. 

I do hope Ritalin doesn’t kill any brain cells. Kindling does, though, and feverishly enthusiastic as I already am I’ve probably flipped out, so in a much more intense way than for most people I might be wasting my life into this.