3:28 PM: The Brownie couldn’t wake up for school. She was comatose—neurologically off. I let her sleep. I had little choice in the matter. Woke at again 11am, read up on the bombing in Brussels, showered, ate, and headed off with the Brownie to physical therapy. Got there and discovered they didn’t take my insurance. Regrouped and headed over to my parents to pick up some mail. After visiting for a bit, I went grocery shopping.
That’s when the Brownie’s neurologically off day exploded in my face. I insisted she leave her 2DS in the car so she could help me shop quicker. She threw a temper tantrum in public instead and took off. I spent the first twenty minutes in the store looking for her with several employees. So much fun. I found her, but she refused to calm down. Of course, it’s all my fault. At least it’s snowing outside so she won’t try to take off. I’ve got to focus on finishing my shopping and get her home.
I remember a writing friend of mine wondered why I didn’t write more. “You have so much time,” she said. Yes, and I have little control over how it’s spent.
Word count: zero
from A Splintered Mind http://ift.tt/22DvdZ3