Mom wants fruit, she was a little jealous because her mean roommate got a peach cobbler and she didn't. The mean roommate didn't eat it but Mom couldn't ask her for it because they're fighting, something like that. I was planning on going to Best Buys because I had promised Beau last night that I would take him back today when we discovered that his new speakers didn't work. What to do, what to do? I took a Xanax. (Heh, I just had to teach my spell checker how to spell Xanax, don't let me become addicted okay?) Mom and the fruit wins. She wants papayas, mangos and bananas, poor thing. I want a life. Am I the meanest most selfish human being on the planet? Why am I so messed up and ambivalent about caring for my mother? I think people who work in health care are saints, I mean it, seriously, they are the most selfless giving people on the planet.
I try to live my life by being aware of the effect I am having on anyone with whom I have contact or exchange. I want to make people's lives happier and brighter and I think if I am open to sensing how they may be feeling as a result of interplay with me that I will then be a better, kinder, more loving person. That's the plan but it makes me feel pretty crappy sometimes because the standard I set for myself is too high for me to reach. My dear friend Susan Pomerantz always used to say that I suffer because I know where I want to be but the gradient is just too steep a climb.
