At 10:30 I decide it would be wise to get some coffee and something to eat before therapy. I don't communicate well when I'm not awake. So I got a donut and some coffee. Doesn't sound strange, right? Except I hate donuts! Some momentary brain dysfunction causes me to eat one and then spend the rest of the day regretting it and saying "why did you eat this you idiot?" And the thing is even with so called breakfast and coffee I have trouble describing my "oh no I made Mom anxious again" attacks. Mom wants to know how my job hunt is going. I didn't know I was looking for a job. Jobs are always looking for me and I have to hide from them. Yikes. On top of that she wants to know if I'm moving in with Nancy. I tell this to Nancy who wants to know why I don't ask Mom when she's moving in with Hilma (I should disguise these names but what the heck - Hilma, if you are reading this, just kidding:-)) I can't possibly write a novel about my family because they are stranger than fiction! So I'm describing to my therapist how my mother can't figure out why Kevin was the only one of us who got an invitation to my cousin Paul's 40th birthday party. Well, Bobby's in Bosnia. Billy is on another planet (and may in fact have gotten an invitation). But Donald and Thomas and I did not get invitations. So my therapist says: "Maybe they only invited the straight ones." I answer:"Great theory, but then why did they invite Mom?" We have no answer for this. Maybe Kevin's is the only address they have. I spend the rest of the session on how angry I am about the Red Sox' firing Kevin Kennedy.
I stopped back home after therapy to check on Wilbur who is sneezing like crazy the last 2 days. No other symptoms. Can cats be allergic to ragweed? I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a URI. Phone rings. Nancy is upset about the Red Sox firing Kevin Kennedy. Her clients are coming in upset about the Red Sox firing Kevin Kennedy. This is a trend. All over Massachusetts and Rhode Island today, therapists are getting an earful about Dan Duquette. We commiserate for awhile then she goes back to work and I go to Rita's for lunch. Turns out Joan can't make it til later so Rita and I walk for an hour around her condo complex - where there are beautiful yellow and orange mushrooms and pretty beige ones that look like half open umbrellas. When Joan arrives we have grilled cheese and pickle sandwiches and espresso and commiserate about the firing of Kevin Kennedy until Charlie comes home and we leave.
Then bang it's 4:00 and I only have 2 hours to do chores before I have to leave to meet Mark for dinner. So here I am journaling instead of paying bills and taking the trash out.