Spontaneous ∂erivation

I didn’t blog the last session with my bartender, and the next one comes up in less than 10 minutes.

To put it shortly:

- losing my mind
- distraction techniques not working
- father poisoned every single holiday tradition/sign/etc, whatever you think of, he poisoned it

Bartender suggested I try to figure out new holiday traditions for myself. Let’s just say, it’s not working real well right now.

And now work is possibly upset that, of all the times of the year, I’m seeing my bartender right now. But he’s booked—there’s no other time.

I’ve sacrificed my sanity for four years for the company. For once surely someone can cover a few hours of a shift. Surely.

I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think I needed it.

Argh argh argh

Waking from shattered
dreams is no way to start the
day; I’m so sorry

My mind is like the
vase one bought to admire
knocked off by the cat

I rather wish my
holidays did not start like
a new, broken vase