I called to schedule physical therapy two days after the rec expired. I’m so slick. I emailed my doctor. I sent out at least ten other scheduling emails. I’m booked until June unless people want to come visit while I do yard work. Or come to dinner. That’s ok. But I think I have my leaving-the-house-plans.

I don’t believe I deserve a community. But it seems to me like people look around and see that they could form community with me or have less community so maybe I’m tolerable. I’ll take it.

I know I’m volatile. I try to keep most of it online. (Except for when I show up at the park and someones kid is on top of my car in under two minutes. Then I yell.)

I have been talking to Shanna about the locking food up issue. I am having intense internal conflict around this. I haven’t installed the locks yet. In a basic moral way it offends me. But I’m afraid that if I don’t put locks on the cabinet I am going to lose it and slap her in the face one of these times. That seems like a non-acceptable possibility. Locks seem so much better compared to that. My control is not perfect and is not endless.

I know they’ll grow up. This stage has ups and downs. They all do. The locks aren’t permanent. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.