I am either a) no longer crazy b) seeing an incompetent psychologist or c) broke. My folks gave me money to go see a counsellor, and providentially I ran out of cake about the time the psychologist pronounced me in markedly better shape than when I showed up in February. I’d like to thank LTGW for getting me the referral, Peggy and the krewe at church for being the soul of lovingkindness, Jeff, folks and kinder for being supportive, sometimes rather more pointedly than I’d like, but whatever. I’ve got Tony’s number and I will definitely go see him if I start going off the skids again. In the meantime, nothing can touch me, for yea, though I walk through the valley of piles of paperwork, I shall fear no angry customers, for the Buzz is with me, and He Fucking Shreds.
Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!