Reefer Counselor
Jan. 18th, 2021 06:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thepnutgalleryBone tired again. I suppose this could be caffeine withdrawals or something, but it could also be anemia, Seroquel not working, etc etc. So many choices! There were some tree trimmers working outside, and it was loud enough to scare Lady Miss Friday under the bed. Ever the opportunist, I took the chance to vacuum. Merryweather ran out when I was about to hit the living room, but turned right around when I turned the vacuum on. No sitcom tropes here.
It was still pretty early, so I hopped over to the store. I needed Lady Miss Friday's food, and even my jacked up decaf coffee concentrate was running very low. I still avoided cookies and vodka, reminding myself that most of our diet is determined by habit. The longer I go without these things, the easier it will be to go longer. And to reinforce my point, I was able to fit into my pants again. One of these days I'll probably buy a scale.
I had my session with Candace despite some technical difficulties. My desktop did that thing where it wouldn't wake up from Sleep, then froze when I tried to restart it. Even more awkward, I grabbed the wrong therapy notes journal to begin with. The meeting itself was sort of anticlimactic. I was already aware that Sean's stay just highlighted that I can't have a flophouse in my living room anymore. I don't remember how we moved to the topic of my mum, but she noted that despite parents claiming they stayed for their children (often as emotional currency), that's almost never the biggest reason. Not that it doesn't factor in, but there are usually social and economic reasons they stay. And it rarely does the children any good. More pertinently, their decision to stay is not the child's responsibility, and more broadly, how much you suffer to try to help someone absolutely should figure in to the equation on how much you give. That last was more eloquent when she said it, but I can't find the right words.
I tried again to figure out something to watch on Netflix, and there were a surprising number of sitcoms that are still playing to tropes and the like, but just when I thought I might have found something, I heard Lady Miss Friday giving the strangest meows I've ever heard. I'd have thought another cat was in my room, and about to be a fight. When I ran in, she was fine, just curled up on my bed with claws flexed like she was being petted. Maybe it was a cat wet dream. I laid with her, just in case it was a nightmare instead, read some, and added a couple new games on my phone. Both undersea shmups, one about a futuristic submarine and one that's like...cetaceans v fish or something.
Laying there, I felt my Blu phone buzzing under my back. No clue why it went to that FB messenger, but Julian had apparently called several times on my regular phone, and there was no record of missed calls or anything. He wanted to see my dick, so I obliged, and I thought maybe we would jerk off together, but he dropped it after that. He was a little nervous about the drive and the interview tomorrow, and then set the phone down to make spaghetti. I could hear him talking to his mom, then a rather loud argument. His uncle had died, and his grandmother two weeks prior. He was crying, but I'm not really a great grief counselor. Even without my meds, I ended up crashing crazy early.
It was still pretty early, so I hopped over to the store. I needed Lady Miss Friday's food, and even my jacked up decaf coffee concentrate was running very low. I still avoided cookies and vodka, reminding myself that most of our diet is determined by habit. The longer I go without these things, the easier it will be to go longer. And to reinforce my point, I was able to fit into my pants again. One of these days I'll probably buy a scale.
I had my session with Candace despite some technical difficulties. My desktop did that thing where it wouldn't wake up from Sleep, then froze when I tried to restart it. Even more awkward, I grabbed the wrong therapy notes journal to begin with. The meeting itself was sort of anticlimactic. I was already aware that Sean's stay just highlighted that I can't have a flophouse in my living room anymore. I don't remember how we moved to the topic of my mum, but she noted that despite parents claiming they stayed for their children (often as emotional currency), that's almost never the biggest reason. Not that it doesn't factor in, but there are usually social and economic reasons they stay. And it rarely does the children any good. More pertinently, their decision to stay is not the child's responsibility, and more broadly, how much you suffer to try to help someone absolutely should figure in to the equation on how much you give. That last was more eloquent when she said it, but I can't find the right words.
I tried again to figure out something to watch on Netflix, and there were a surprising number of sitcoms that are still playing to tropes and the like, but just when I thought I might have found something, I heard Lady Miss Friday giving the strangest meows I've ever heard. I'd have thought another cat was in my room, and about to be a fight. When I ran in, she was fine, just curled up on my bed with claws flexed like she was being petted. Maybe it was a cat wet dream. I laid with her, just in case it was a nightmare instead, read some, and added a couple new games on my phone. Both undersea shmups, one about a futuristic submarine and one that's like...cetaceans v fish or something.
Laying there, I felt my Blu phone buzzing under my back. No clue why it went to that FB messenger, but Julian had apparently called several times on my regular phone, and there was no record of missed calls or anything. He wanted to see my dick, so I obliged, and I thought maybe we would jerk off together, but he dropped it after that. He was a little nervous about the drive and the interview tomorrow, and then set the phone down to make spaghetti. I could hear him talking to his mom, then a rather loud argument. His uncle had died, and his grandmother two weeks prior. He was crying, but I'm not really a great grief counselor. Even without my meds, I ended up crashing crazy early.
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