Drusilla in Buffy versus Aubrey Plaza in literally everything; I do wonder if Aubrey Plaza secretly (or not-so-secretly) loves Drusilla out of Buffy. It occurred to me that they are very similar archetypes, and even a bit of physical similarity as well.
I told S about the death of Aubrey Plaza's husband and he almost immediately started blaming her for it. Two people we know next to nothing about? Alright.
This morning I woke up with a headache. And I woke up to a blizzard. And last night it was gusty, like what I imagine living on a spooky Stephen King island would be like.
And now it's sunny, the sky a shade of milk overlaid with periwinkle blue. I successfully got L to school and even did a little homework perched at Chickadee Coffee Company. I had coffee with A for the first time ever, which was really nice. I relocated to New Sagaya because I was hungry and got kicked out of Chickadee. They were closing due to road conditions. I ranted in the car driving through a slight snowstorm. About the meeting last night. About how that's not how you manage people (but, of course, you is; one does; management is, inherently, manipulative). Answering questions nobody asked me, etc. It's how I process anymore. To myself. Out loud. In the car.
I tried to go to The Vault where a barista overtly judged my drink choice (a 16 oz. americano with white mocha powder). I felt lied to. Because I thought there was supposed to be a place to study there...with a view of the Chugach? No. Nothing of the sort. And so I felt weird and intrusive going up and down elevators and asking the nice lady who rode it down with me at the last about this and she gave me The Side-Eye. Then I drove to the Loussac, but that was closed. And finally ended up...where I am.
Things feel a little better today. I was stressed out this weekend. I don't think I want to work weekends anymore. But...maybe I will until I quit. S was helping out in the sense that I didn't feel like I needed to overtly find care for the weekends. And he got time with his daughter! Yay! Or...maybe Not-Yay? Because:
If/since he really only wants to spend time with her one weekend a month as per Last Conversation.
This morning we were talking about what would happen if someone cracked their head open (I don't think she has any plans to crack anyone else's head open, but better to be prepared, I guess?) and then the conversation shifted to therapy and she was like, "Well, I do want to go to therapy and talk about my feelings. Because sometimes I feel out of control!" so, add that to the list.
I was thinking she'd probably need OT at some point for school at least (her school seems to neither agree nor disagree which can be maddening at times), but maybe we start with play/talk therapy. Because see paragraph uh...seven, above.
Okay, time to go. After school activities were cancelled for today which I'm puzzled about, but to be fair I chose not to drive home after coffee because oh my goddess so far.
And hey: you're doing great, sweetie.
[long, deep, exhale]
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