Please don't ask why I chose that title. I'll have to make something up if you do, because I have no idea.
I just got home from a rather eventful Utah weekend. I left for home more than eight hours ago. It's about a six hour drive.
When I talked to Therapist about the things that are happening with me, he was fairly insistent that I come see him as soon as possible. So I started to Utah early yesterday morning, nervous and unhappy about the circumstances behind the trip. I didn't want to stay with my sister this time, so I invited myself to stay with Ambrosia and Bawb (who will think twice before inviting me again--more about that later).
Because I love him and like to have lunch with him, I arranged to meet Edgy between 11:30 and noon. However, Thursday night I had difficulty getting to sleep. I finally began dozing around 2:30 a.m. One hour later I was awakened by Adam emptying his stomach in the bathroom above me. Tabitha came downstairs to deliver shocking news that she thought Adam might be ill. I said he was. She thought maybe she should do the paper route alone that morning. I said yes, again. She said something about bringing in the papers now--I had no idea what she was talking about, so I said yes, yet again. Moral of the story--if you want something from me, visit me when I'm starving for sleep and I'll probably agree to anything. I went back to sleep, expecting my alarm to wake me around 5:00. It didn't ring. I woke at six, flew around getting ready and left just before 7:00.
Thank goodness for fair road conditions. I hit the border around 11:30 and called Edgy to move our lunch to 12:30. I started into Utah and found wet slushy roads. I also found that I had no windshield wiper fluid. Needless to say, visibility was severely limited. I made it to the arranged meeting place on time and called Edgy to let him know I'd arrived. He brought his parents with him, so I got to meet them--and I like them very much. It was a delight to spend time, however short, with them. They left Edgy and I to discuss online Scrabble games, children, graduate school and the Wii. It was a lovely break from driving, and as is my curse, because I was preoccupied with impending counseling, I talked way too much about whatever came to mind and was without doubt, babbling about dozens of random things which I, thankfully, don't remember. Edgy, if you love me, you won't remember either.
I went to Walmart and bought wiper fluid, replenished my car and set off for Provo. AtP and I share very few things, but Therapist is one of them. I knew he was supposed to meet with Therapist that morning, so I texted him to find out how that went. He responded that Therapist had canceled all appointments that day. I had heard nothing of this. Since I had nothing else to do, and Provo was closer than home, I decided to head to Therapist's office to see what was going on. I let the receptionist know I'd arrived for my appointment with Therapist. She told me he was out, and had been ill all week (which isn't true because I arranged my appointment with him on Wednesday). I must have looked unhappy because the other receptionist asked me if she could help me schedule an appointment for Monday. I said no, and explained that I'd just driven seven hours to meet with him. The very nice lady immediately called Therapist to remind him that he'd scheduled an appointment with me and to see if he'd do a telephone consult. Then she asked me to have a seat and offered to go get me ice cream, which I politely declined.
Therapist called within 10 minutes. He apologized several times and explained that he and his family had been ill with influenza A (whatever that is--I assume it has something to do with why we get flu shots), but that he definitely wanted to see me and would be there in 20 minutes. The ice cream offering receptionist took me to an empty conference room to wait so I could work on the tax returns I brought with me.
Therapist arrived around 4:00. I can't even begin to explain how much I love him--and how much I hated our session. He told me I had waited way too long to come. He talked about stupid facilities for people with eating disorders. He told me I was practicing avoidance again and gave me a list of things I need to do to help ease the stress that's causing me to stop eating/touching/and other things that I don't want to talk about right now. He told me I'm not resting enough or taking enough down time. He assigned me to watch American Idol. Honestly, what kind of therapy assignment is that!? The session went on and on. I had made arrangements to take Sully to dinner around 5:00. AtP, wondering what happened to me, texted me. I couldn't answer because the session was still going. At 6:00 I finally asked Therapist if he would allow an interruption so I could call Sully. He said yes, and asked me to tell him hello for him (which I forgot to do. Sorry, Sully. Therapist says hello). Sully said to just let him know when I was finished talking to Therapist--which finally happened at 6:30.
I picked up Sully and we ate at my favorite place, where I ordered my favorite salad and ate all the berries off it. I should just tell them next time that I don't want the greens or the salad dressing. I only want the berries and the nuts. We talked until 9:45. I had left my phone in the car, so I had no idea what time it was. I was supposed to see AtP when he got off work at 9:30. Sully and I hurried to take him home and I went to AtP's house. By the way, Sully, thank you so much for a lovely evening. You just make me smile.
AtP and I visited for nearly an hour. I love spending time with him. I was all stressed and nervous because of the incredibly long marathon therapy session, so I think I talked non-stop about probably the most uncomfortable and inappropriate things. Thank goodness AtP forgives me when I'm at my worst. I love him!!
I left to go to Ambrosia and Bawb's house. I've been there once before, but I realized as I was driving there that I'd forgotten to bring the address. I located the paper where I had written their phone number, and found that the number thereon only had nine digits. I called AtP in a panic, asking if he remembered where they lived. He remembered the exit number and said something about driving a long way before you turned left. Not exactly helpful. Feeling desperate, I gave him the password to my Gmail and had him locate the number for me (so if weird posts suddenly appear on my blog--blame him).
I called Ambrosia (thank you for not being upset that I called so late) and got directions to her home. I arrived shortly after midnight--still full of nervous tension and talking non-stop. We visited (which means I talked my head off and probably told Ambrosia and Bawb the life history of every living being I've encountered) until after 3:00 a.m. Not the smartest thing in the world. We all slept in this morning, causing Bawb to miss one of his classes (I think it's probably a lot my fault because if I hadn't talked forever, we all would have gone to bed earlier, so I'm really, really sorry). Unfortunately for Ambrosia--the talking non-stop thing hadn't dissipated overnight, so I spent yet another two hours talking about who knows what. Thank goodness she was graceful about it and listened to whatever came out of my mouth. Truly, Ambrosia, I usually don't do that. Someday, if you invite me back, I promise to talk less.
So that brings me to my long drive home. I ran into black ice two hours from my destination. Fortunately, I noticed cars and trucks slowing down long before I was actually on it, so I was going pretty slowly (20 mph), but less fortunate vehicles (5 of them) were on the sides of the road, upside down, headlights still burning. It was very scary. The icy highway lasted until 30 miles from my home. It took me four hours to drive 110 miles. You do the math. It was a long, long trip.
So now I'm home. And Therapist insisted that I choose between a nice visit to an eating disorders clinic and a return visit in two weeks (during which time I have an unspeakable amount of assignments to complete--and he gave me those assignments after he told me I was working too much??? What is he thinking?). Naturally, I opted for the assignments and two week check. And even after all that talking--I still feel the need to shoot my mouth off, which accounts for the length of this post.