Last night I made a plan to rise at 7am and walk two blocks to Starbucks for my daily dose of wakefulness; at 9am I roll myself out of bed and slither into the shower. The day was to be full, even if I had missed my appointment with exercise. Both Bella and I had therapy appointments at 10am which meant that one of us would be early if we were to both be on time. At 9:45, as we frantically searched for my missing wallet, I realized we both would be late, so we might as well keep our Starbucks date and at least have comfort in that.
“Off to be judged,” she sighed at the curb to her Mental Facility. She was dressed fabulously as if for a funeral.
Today was the first day with her new ‘maybe’ therapist (maybe because she has hated all prior), and it was to be the last day with my favorite therapist ever.
My final session wrapped up nicely with words of encouragement and well wishes. I feel oddly saddened because I felt I would have liked to have been her ‘friend’ in the real world. I am hungry for friends here; the majority of the population here at UCR, are under 25 unless you are a professional and there is a clear line drawn for relationships between faculty and students. This has become a point of tension for me in my late education. Surrounded by people with very little in common with me, striving to juggle work, homeschooling 2 kids, being a mom, dad, friend and girlfriend to those who spend most of their time under my roof, has been difficult this year.
Feeling as if I had lost a friend, I drove back over to reclaim Bella. Happily, she was enthusiastic about her new therapist. “He is old and makes me laugh and says ‘fuck’ a lot,” she texted me. He didn’t make her feel judged, didn’t give her a guilt trip, and she was even disappointed that she only gets to see him every 3 weeks.
The only proper thing for us to do with my dejection and her satisfaction was to go to the craft store for some retail therapy: a coping mechanism apparently. I coped by buying my daughter a round razor and a self healing cutting board for her new duct tape craft fetish. It was, after all, 50% off. Yesterday’s retail therapy consisted of a mixed media art book and matching markers for Cruz. Why I buying other people things for my retail therapy will have to be discussed with John, my new, hopefully understanding and helpful, therapist.
I titled this blog “Spring Break” because it is my children’s spring break. Mine was over 3 weeks ago, meaning our lives are totally thrown even more out of routine. When I came home I didn’t feel like going to class (for the third lecture in a row) and instead I browsed blogs until I came up with the inspiration to tell about my crazy hectic morning.
I suppose that the third week into a quarter is the safest time to be missing classes, it just means I need to step my study plans up another level. Until them, I am going to play some Candy Crush and eat more hummus.
#semicolonproject416 continued today so I can remember that I have made the choice to continue my sentences.