I feel very self-conscious when I go to the therapist. I start to think about my body language and whether it's communicating something different than my words, and then I start going all wacky with arm crossing, fingers clasping, hair touching, and probably making a boatload of weird facial expressions. I like my therapist, though - I've been to a few over the years and this is the first one that I feel really good about.
I'm coping. I was doing very well with cleaning, decluttering and packing, but I've hit a wall. I need to get my motivation back.
I've been reading trashy novels to pass the time. I'm almost done with the Sookie Stackhouse series. I also watched Season 1 of True Blood, which I borrowed from my sister-in-law. Way, way better than the books. My prurient interest in Alexander Skarsgaard makes me feel old and pervy, but his appeal is undeniable.
Earlier today, I was feeling on the verge of being sick...I thought I might be feverish and I felt slightly nauseated. But now I feel completely normal. Still, I'm going to take some Nyquil before I go to bed tonight.
3 comments:
Nice to hear from you. I think of you often and wonder how you're doing.
Do you have a clutter issue? My Dad is a packrat beyond compare and I was just wondering if your therapy had anything to do with that, if indeed you have that issue.
Don't get sick.
I'm not a packrat, and I have no problem getting rid of stuff, but we've been living here 10 years, and we just have too much stuff in the house to get rid of it quickly.
nice article
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