Subject: Slightly bewildered because I am experiencing conflicting feelings. I was so tired this morning, but cozy as I wriggled further into my nest of sheets and blankets and dogs. I slept in. It was really, really nice to sleep in.
But I wanted to get some things done before I went for my own
counseling session. It has been over a month since I have seen my own
therapist. So I really wanted to make sure I got there on time and all.
So I called all the folks I need to call about the NAMI Support
meetings. For the group here in starkville and both groups in
Columbus. I sent a few more emails about said meetings.
I afixed more postage on certain returned envelops that I stuffed with
pamphlets and letters and info sheets. I tidied up on a few last
chores I needed to do before I left for tomorrow's convention. I felt
a real sense of accomplishment, along with zinging and pinging thoughts
and racing heart.
I go to counseling. I won't go into HUGE details. But...
I discovered that I made the paper. My former counselor clipped it and brought it down to share it with my current counselor. I had no idea.
I mean, I emailed info but no one contacted me. And I don't get the
paper. A friend mentioned something a few days ago, but I thought she
meant the other Debra (there really is another Debra that is a good
friend to us both).
Of course, the paper and the library were both closed. A search of the
archives online yielded nothing. So I guess I'll just wait til next
Then I came home and my neighbor and I took turns sledgehammering
concrete and digging dirt. Ya know what? Flying chips of concrete
leave bloody lil knicks.
So, I threw my clothes in the washer (now, they're in the dryer). I'm gonna shower. I'm going to bed early.
Big day tomorrow.
Mood: Actually, tired and reflective. But those aren't options. Neither are.
Music: including: The House that Jack Built; Son of a Preacher Man;
Spirit in the Dark; I say a Little Prayer; Bridge over Troubled Water;
Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing; Without Love; Eleanor Rigby; and