I was in a good mood this morning when I walked Theo in the fog and took a bunch of foggy pictures and even when I went off to work I still felt pretty cheerful despite a bit of a hangover and so on. And then all hell broke loose and he who shall not be blogged about got into some fairly serious trouble and she who loves to be blogged about's car finally gave up the ghost and just died on the edge of Fairview. That's two bad things and so now I'm anxiously waiting for the third shoe to drop which is a rotten, rotten feeling. Argh.
I have been all cheerful for the past couple of weeks and in fact on Monday my Zen therapist and I called it quits because, you see, I am just so sane and stuff and there I was, smugly enjoying my life and feeling gratitude and so on and now, fuck, it's all gone to shit again.
So A says to me that the problem with M is that he needs a very strict and unvarying routine and I said, "That is impossible. We don't live on Camazotz." which is true, and I guess I am glad we don't but sheesh. Sometimes an all knowing brain taking care of all these pesky details would be nice, you know? And when you ground a kid you essentially ground yourself, so if you're wondering where I am, I'm at home, being grounded.
In a complete nonsequitur, I just googled Camazotz, which as you probably know is the evil totalitarian planet of A Wrinkle in Time, which I in my 12 year old wisdom always assumed was a thinly veiled reference to Soviet Russia - in Soviet Russia, brain thinks you! - but it turns out that Camazotz is a Mayan bat god. Cool.
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