Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Faster Than Water


    I rose to write emails.

    I couldn't blog. I don't know why. Maybe I was tired. I still don't know why. I had my new therapist to see today, and I wasn't much into that. But it would be better than going to Social Services on Friday. That's going to prove to be a load of laughs. I refuse to think about it though. I refuse to catastrophize, and it works. I didn't think about it at all. Not at all.

    I trudge across town to ICD and wait for my therapist. She soon comes out, not keeping me waiting for too long, which is a plus in my book. I hate to wait a long period of time to be seen. It's highly annoying to come on time and then wait a half an hour to have your session.

    Dr. W. waddles out and 'lands' on the side of the reception desk. She is a short, obese woman, breathing laboriously and squeaking out my name as if she ran a mile to get to the reception area. I'm wearing my headsets, listening to music. I don't hear that. It's the receptionist that calls out and gets my attention. I follow behind Dr. W. down the long corridor to her office where she gestures me to a seat next to her desk and then squeezes into her chair.

    "Well, Mr. Hobobob, do you know what medicines that you're on?" she asks.
    Yeah, I read off two of them, she adds the third which I forgot.
    "Do you know why you take them?"
    Same thing, three out of four. I'm not all that good with snap quizzes.
    "I always do that to my new patients so that they do more than say they take their pills because of nerves. You are not here because of your nerves."
    I understand.
    "Now I want to to list down your medications...."
    It goes on like this for about twenty minutes, medication, medication, medication. Soon, she hands me my prescriptions, "I'll see you in a month Mr. Hobobob."

    I head to the library to be with my brother and we compute together. I work on my web mail. Somehow, earlier, I fucked up my Yahoo Mail basically wiping out my mail list and leaving me blind to what I was receiving. I worked on it to no avail and had to switch over to Yahoo Classic...ugggh, so bogus! I was going to fix this if it killed me.

    Before the library closed I went to Starbucks where my brother met up with me again and worked on my email program. I'm really hurt over having to use Yahoo Classic. Really hurt. I can't stand it. But I still cannot fix the problem. I decide to give it a rest and I use the Safari web browser to get to my web mail using Yahoo Mail. Safari is another program that I hate. I love Firefox.

    We rode uptown to 96th street station and I say goodbye to my brother and head home after shopping at Duane Reade. I don't check the mail because I know it'll just be more paperwork from Social Services. Now that they've straightened out my mail I'm getting deluged with their shit.

    I work on my web mail problem until I get tired.

    I haven't heard from Charlie yet. We're supposed to meet tomorrow. I'll email him first then. Maybe he had to cancel.

    I crawl into bed and go to sleep.

    HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/02/faster-than-water.html
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