I had to run an errand at the butt crack of dawn yesterday, and on my way through town I spot a homeless man sitting on a guard rail smoking a cig. And I think to myself, "Now that's the life..." Detoxing is kinda still happening.... mostly.
Later that afternoon I call the therapist for an appointment-after coming home from the pharmacy with a crate of tampons. Yeah.. I know-Midol is cheaper. Anyhoo.... "Yes, I will take the next available appointment!" It's not like I need another person to tell this same 'ol same 'ol BS too, or even that I'm searching for answers or clarity. I just need a pill. And the b*tch had better hand one over.... OR. ELSE.
In the meantime Mr B keeps running bubble baths the size of Lake Michigan for me and doling out my tightly controlled daily ration of "peace and happiness"-keeping one eye me at all times and never turning his back to me.
Smart man, I think.
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