My parents leave for Houston in the morning. Atlanta's Hartsfield International is a hour drive from their house. Every Friday we (mom and me) go buy my groceries. For the longest time mom would go for me when I was having my panic attacks. I soon realized I needed to start going to buy nutritious and healthier food. I was basically eating microwave meals two times a day when mom was buying my food.
Well, mom is in a tizzy over me not being able to get my groceries this Friday. According to my father, she has called his pharmacy four times today wondering if she should take me this afternoon.
"Wouldn't this just be so much easier if you would just give me eighty dollars to go buy groceries," I told my father a moment ago.
"Too soon," he replied. "It would just be too tempting for you. I don't want you to buy beer."
It gets to the point that it is almost comical, this keeping me from money. Everything turns into this great, gargantuan effort to do anything for me. Add my obsessive compulsive mother to the mix and things get incredibly complicated.