Much going on that I don’t know how much to say about. My daughter, Maya, started seeing a therapist last week. I won’t get into why, those are her issues to share, not mine, and this is my blog to be responsible for, not hers. It will probably be a slow process for her, and the therapist is prepared for that by offering board games and the like as they get familiar with each other.
The regular yoga teacher at my gym has been on vacation last week and this week and I was a complete chicken and didn’t go to the sub’s class on Friday, even though I needed it. The teacher who is subbing is young and perfect and completely intimidating. Too young to be experienced, my prejudiced mind tells me.
Having Fridays off over the summer puts me in a bit of a pickle where Lori is concerned. It is one of the three days a week she is allowed to have visitors, and there I am, not at work. Perfect opportunity to go see her, right? Uggh. You have to schedule visits the day before, so I spend all day Thursday thinking, “should I or shouldn’t I?” Then I don’t, and as soon as the scheduling center is closed for the day, I beat myself up for not scheduling an appointment. Then I spend Friday either avoiding thinking about her all together, or telling myself “next week.”
I equate the idea of visiting Lori with the idea of going to a medium to talk to a dead person. Sure, the opportunity is there, but it’s just not the same anymore.
I was completely serious last week when I was ready to pitch everything and move to Detroit. I even emailed a few real estate agents out there. One of them repeatedly. Then on Thursday I emailed her to say never mind, my husband has no sense of adventure and I am obviously crazy. Or something to that effect.