My alarm clock this morning was a screaming back, which I don’t understand as I haven’t done any Fitness Marshall songs (seriously – You Tube the guy). I was feeling almost normal yesterday before the pain crept back last night. Goddammit.
My goal today was to get new living quarters for Violet in working order, practice guitar chords and study, but I had remembered I needed to go make a credit card payment so I did 
that, got the curtain liner at the dollar store (so I could lay the soaked coconut shell on it to dry) and went home. It is most helpful to my brain when I have clearly defined goals (bank, curtain liner), yet such goals are tricky at home where it is a veritable mash of an ADHD options bag. The good news is this – Chris (my flatlands BBF) checked to see if I’d be home (I borrowed his rug shampooer when I lived in the other house). This meant I’d have a visitor.
In the meanwhile, I studied Theraplay a bit (it’s quite different than PCIT/Incredible Years), practiced e and G chords and watched videos from Dr. Bryan Post on childhood attachment issues. Eventually Chris showed up and made to my place. I miss seeing that guy. He tried to console me on my loneliness issue by suggesting I do something like a meet-up type of activity, but to be honest, my meet-up activity of Mother Hips shows has already been in progress for years and has had nothing to show for it, so what good is a hike around a lake going to do? I showed him Match and he thinks I should commit 6 months…then laughed when I groaned with my “already been in 6 weeks” stance. Seriously…all those ridiculous “I was almost done with Match and then I met my dream man!” women should be shot.
But I’m not bitter or anything <smile> Really, I’m not…I miss deep human interaction once in a while – and no, I’m not referring to sex (though that is fun once in a while, too). It’s weird to me who yesterday I was on such an emotional high after having been complimented on my therapeutic skills not only by my friend (who has lived a thing or two about therapy) but by colleagues as well, to such an emotional low because I’m here alone, again. Year 5, plus. I think the next move might be to switch from patchouli to a real perfume…one that “catches” men. Any suggestions?
And in my despair of loneliness, I succumbed once again to my heroin – Mexican food. I didn’t mean to (yes I did), but I needed a “rush.” On my way to pick it up, I passed by a disabled vehicle, then saw a family walking along the narrow road with no sidewalk; mom, dad, 5 year old and a toddle held by mom. They had a long way to go until they reached a gas-station store, so I pulled over and called the sheriff’s department and they dispatched an officer. I felt guilty for not stopping (though I’m not sure where I would have pulled over, there was no room), but at least I called for some help if they need it (and it seems they did).
Picture: Violet’s new digs
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