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2004-03-30 @ 11:21 p.m.
the four food groups

I was so depressed today, that I actually went out and bought a bag of potato chips. Now this may not seem like much to the average person, but to me its pretty alarming, since I generally don't partake in junk food. About the closest thing I eat to junk food is chocolate. But when you consider chocolate to be one of the four food know.

Meat...potatoes....bagals...and chocolate, its really not bad.

I'm having a really bad spell right now. Its kind of a combination of the anniversary of my Dad's death, the spotting of Zenshrink, the tasteless comment of Alf, the jerkiness of Married Guy, which is ever growing, the car situation, the money situation.

The fact that my sense of humor is about to take a trip to Mexico, and then I'll just look and act like a sour old women of 46, without the benefit of witty repartee. And we all know you can't just get by on looks forever.

But it was just a gloriously bad day, from start from finish. Married Guy woke me up at 8:45 asking me if I was coming out to his house for piano today with kidlet. All week I had been snorting and angry-fying a lot of unresolved feelings I have towards him and I had actually sat down and wrote him a note telling him why I didn't think I would be coming around anymore. In the note I told him that I didn't feel appreciated, and that I felt taken for granted (I have actually written him THAT note several times before and sent it...the "feeling taken for granted" note and then he'll usually be really nice to me for several months and then I'll stupidly forgive him and we'll live happily fucking ever after like in an MGM musical).

Of course I never mail any of the angry letters. I just like to get them out of my system in a safe and timely manner, so as not to end up in a clock tower with an uzi.

So I told Married Guy this morning, that even though I was still fairly sick, I would most likely be up, and he said kidlet would be home around 4:30. Fine.

But I had other things to attend to during the day, namely, my appointment with "A". It was a good appointment. Told him about the creepy event with the hand between the leg comment and about the spotting of Zenshrink and he was appropriately understanding and kind about my anger and apprehension about the events.

But he did bring up a good point. Well, first of all, I did wonder aloud, why does all this shit keep happening to me? I'm not exactly a sexpot. I don't dress sexy. I don't flirt. And "A" thought that men might take advantage of me because they realize that I'm quiet and I probably won't say anything if they do something. I think its safe to say he really hit the nail on the head with that one.

He then asked me why I didn't say something when Alf said he was finally going to get a chance to get his hands between my legs and I told "A" I just blanked out. "A" said I should have just firmly said, "I don't like what you just said. Please don't talk to me like that. It makes me uncomfortable."

Funny how that never crossed my mind, as it was transpiring. Same thing with Zenshrink and his little event. I just sat there, watched him and just blanked out. Told "A" I felt like I deserved to be treated like this. He, of course, rightly, totally disagreed with me, and said we are going to be working on this stuff in coming weeks. Maybe do some role-plays and some anger work. Hope "A" has his steel plated cod piece on. We can sometimes get rather physical when we do role plays. They're very emotional for me, but I also love to be able to get the anger out.

And I could have really used it later in the afternoon when I went out to Married Guy's house at the prearranged time. But no Married Guy. Just wifie out playing in the garden. I have never met anyone who can wax so rhapsodically about mulch as that woman. Half the time I don't even realize she's talking about mulch. I think she's talking about a romantic weekend with Married Guy or something.

And then somewhere in the middle of mulch-erotica, some yuppie couple pulled up in a Saab and she immediately left me standing mid-sentence and went out to discuss chi-tea or feng shui with them, so I just went in and curled up on the Stickley couch. I was really exhausted.

My shrink appointment had been at 10:45 and I had fit in a movie in-between (the hilarious "Ladykillers" with Tom Hanks), and it was now nearing almost 5:15 and I couldn't breathe out of either nostril. And still no Married Guy. I was on the verge of going home. Although the 34 mile round trip, really needed to be justified considering how expensive gas is.

Finally, as I was drifting in and out of a hazy nap I vaguely realized Married Guy and the kids were already home but just out in the yard. He was talking with the visiting yupsters, and kidlet was playing basketball. And I was like what the hell? I've been waiting for over an hour. Don't these people realize MY TIME IS IMPORTANT TOO. Just because I am on disability, does not mean, that I am at your beck and call 24/7. I have a life too. So I finally went outside and got kidlet and we did our lesson.

Married Guy finally drifted in and admitted he "got lost" coming home. How do you get lost coming home when you've lived someplace since the mid-1980's? Alzheimer's'? He never did apologize for making me wait for an hour.

He then asked if I was available for some graphics work. I said sure. I design all his work, except for his website. He then made an ill-fated joke about me getting paid (I don't...except in massage). And then I said, "Oh, what pay? Something new?"

Yeah, I guess he finally realized he was on my shit list and actually realized just how sick I was, since he handed me an orange as I was leaving. Unfortunately, it was sort of a case of too little too late. I was just too perturbed to be "bought" by a piece of fruit, even when he offered to cut it up for me.

But the real grand finale of the day, was what was waiting for me at home. I, of course, have still been getting a rather sickly stream of calls for my piece of shit car. Maybe 2-3 a day if I'm lucky. So I was going through the calls on my Caller ID box. Had 3 calls from my mom. One call from my doctor. Five calls from prospective car buyers with one very prominent name popped up amongst them....


Fucking hell. When I saw his name on my Caller ID R. Zenshrink, I almost fuckin' had to call 911. I went into total panic attack mode. Hyperventilating. Chest pains. Dizziness. I just could not believe he would call my house after three months. And I was totally convinced that it was him because I had just seen him this week. But it was a total freakout. I did manage to take a clonopin during all this and once I got my breathing under control I called my mother.

She listened for maybe 2 minutes tops (I was still breathing rather laboriously from panic and fear) and she then said, "I don't mean to interrupt you, but some lady from my radio show sent me a card today with a $50 giftcard from Walmart."

I guess in the grand scheme of things, a gift card to Walmart, was way more important than a mere panic attack that nearly prompted a call to 911 from your daughter. I mean, after all, who is more important? A daughter having a possibly life threatening panic attack, or a card from some woman she didn't know sending her a $50 gift card from Walmart?

I think we all know the answer to that.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty