Today I called in sick to work because I was not up to par after the test. I leave at 5:30 to go see Dr. Altman. Another visit. What will we talk about?
I wear my black wool turtleneck from Benetton, the soft worn LOFT jeans and the black ankle boots. Pink eyeshadow and the pink chocolate lipstick. The nubby black-and-white scarf slung twice around my neck. The silver X or kiss earrings and the wide silver band ring I bought in the gift shop at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
For some reason the GooGoo Dolls lyrics run through my head about how it is sad to know life is more than who you are. I submit that the greater maturity is to accept this because it's not all about you or me it's about what we can do to serve other people in the world.
Public service is not a dirty word. Neither is compassion.
I discovered my magnetic poetry book and composed a poem on the refrigerator:
We Are the One
Just Do It
So that people who open the door or pass by will see my ethic on display.
I've slowly recovered from the attack that happened when I was in grad school. You can read about this and the cognitive therapy in the first SharePost I send to the Connection in December.
It is my contention that those of us doing well have the duty to help bring others up A person who is not doing well has the responsibility only to work on his own recovery.
I read a Diana Vreeland quote in the September Real Simple: "The only real elegance is in the mind; if you've got that, the rest really comes from it."
This I interpret to mean if you have a calm mind you will be able to be confident and take risks. A shaky mind could hold you back sometimes. This is the root of my dalliance with cognitive therapy: elegance of the mind to me signals acceptance of my quirky brain instead of resisting how it works. With this kind of therapy you train your brain to be at ease.
Tonight I dined in Bella Napoli: I had the nourishing shrimp parmigiana with mixed vegetables and a bottle of Snapple iced tea. As usual I tipped the usual waiter a little more than 20 percent. Afterward I ducked into the Esprit store. I'm a sucker for their motto: The World Is Our Culture. I bought a purple leather bag that is mod. Next week I go back with the coupon I forgot and buy a belt I saw. I tell D. to come with me before we head to Red Lobster for dinner. We can take a pedi-cab back to 42nd Street.
There was nothing to report to Dr. Altman who sent me on my way after we talked about the friendship networking service I joined and my luck with the second person I met through it. It is still too early to see where it will go however I'm hopeful. Dr. Altman understood when I told him, "You should not blab about your liabilities on the first date." I had told him I could not continue to see the first guy. This is common sense and has nothing to do with your mental illness. A quite successful matchmaker wrote a book, Get Over Yourself, in which she told readers not to reveal potential negative information on the first date. So this is not something that I'm telling you alone: an expert on dating would give you the same advice.
Besides, it is strictly a friendship-only service I joined although it does boast some romantic partnerships. So I take each day as it comes. You will read about this in "Bruni in the City: The Dating Game" in the winter issue of New York City Voices. Do subscribe. You can Google "new york city voices" and "advocacy journal" to read the paper online and submit your own article.
OK: I have no energy and I feel not at all better than I did in the morning. And I have to work tomorrow. So let me go.
Have a good weekend.
Portrait of grandfather and baby….work in progress - Work in progress, but unfinished…Filed under: Art, Drawing, portraits Tagged: boy, Grandfather, Love, man, microcephaly, pencil, portrait, toddler
13 hours ago