It’s only been a day since I’ve been recovering from my close call with my mental illness. I was sitting here yesterday obsessing over the supposed snow we are getting when my psychiatrist’s office called.
“Just wanted to remind you you have an appointment with Dr. Kern in the morning at 8 AM,” she said perkily.
“Fuck!” was the exact word I muttered after hanging up. Sorry to sensitive eyes and ears!
I called dad and he wasn’t too happy about it. He had forgotten as well.
“I was hoping to have a day off,” he told me sounding disappointed.
I told him to look on the bright side. We could get some of those delectable sausage biscuits at Hardee’s afterwards in the morning.
I plan on talking to my psychiatrist about my insomnia. I can only sleep around 3 or 4 hours at a time then I am up for 8 hours or more. I feel tired all the time. Maybe he will give me something to take to solve this little problem (joy!).
On top of that tomorrow, I have to go buy groceries and I dread it immensely. I am thinking of just getting twenty cans of Chef Boyardee for $20 dollars and a few jugs of Milo’s sweet tea and calling it quits. Mom will have a fit, though - saying that is a terrible diet and that I need some kind of vegetables and fruits.