I feel better now, but I have to go to the doctor today. It happens every three months. It’s kind of torture: go there, wait forever, get weighed. Blood pressure. Wait more. Finally see the doctor, the midwife psychiatric nurse, and talk to her who smiles and clicks checkboxes on her computer and types things in.
She’s nice. Why do I hate it so much? I think it’s the continual threat of her talking about my weight. I have baggage about that! to say the least. Doctor trauma.
Also today we have our weekly peace vigil at the federal building. I like it, like doing time sort of, spiritual practice. “I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.” –Mother Teresa