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I got home at around midnight yesterday, after spending the evening with my mother to make sure that she recovered from the Gravol (she did, although it took about four hours). I left her mentally alert and awake, and took a cab back home.

Upon walking into our building, I noticed that the lock in the front door was gone -- there was just a hole where it had been. More on this later.

Today I slept in until 1:30 pm, after being up briefly at about 10 am and deciding that morning just wasn't something I could handle. The HB cheque had arrived at the FedEx drop location just up the street from us this morning, so I went and picked it up, went to the bank, deposited it, walked three blocks back to Corydon and Stafford, and caught the bus to my psychiatrist appointment with literally 15 seconds to spare, if that.

As usual, seeing my psychiatrist was difficult, a process of peeling open the emotional scabs and looking at what's underneath -- which, at the moment, is a pretty good mix of coping and not-coping. He approved the use of the progesterone-only birth control pill that my GP recommended for combatting my vicious PMS; now we'll just have to see if it cancels out the effects of all my antidepressants like the last estrogen and progesterone birth control pill did.

On the way home, I stopped at the library to pick up a couple of books and then at Staples to grab some printer ink for my mother (and found a value pack that saved me close to 7 dollars on all three cartridges). I even stopped at a drugstore downtown and picked up a whole whack o' bus tickets. Everything looked like it was going fine...

... until I arrived at my apartment building and found that I couldn't get in. The lock had been replaced, and the outside door key no longer worked. It didn't work for me. It didn't work for the girl who came up the steps a few seconds after me. It DID work for the fellow who arrived several seconds after that, but neither the girl nor I could get our keys to turn when we tried it yet again.

I just got hold of the building's owner on his cell, and he says he'll be getting new keys cut first thing in the morning, so we'll have new keys by tomorrow afternoon. *crosses fingers*

For the next couple of hours I'll be working on MM, and then George will get up at 8 pm. Perhaps I can coax him out to have dinner at one of the local cafes; our front door key might not work, but we can access our apartment's back door off the fire escape to get back in.

Right now I'm just trying NOT to worry about the monumental task of finding my mother an apartment. It's such a crapshoot, and the stakes are fairly high. I just put an ad up at kijiji.ca asking for a one bedroom in our area, so perhaps that will turn up some hits. The problem is that it's really too early to do any kind of serious looking for a July 1st or August 1st occupancy. I guess I'll just have to practice my DBT skills and live with the stress day by day.

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crowdog66

October 2016

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