Joined a gym yesterday… (Psychiatrist
wants me socializing more; beat back my hermit tendencies a bit.)
Shook like Krakatoa the entire time…. (Honestly. My signature on the contract is mostly likely unreadable. Seeing
as how I was just on the good side of sheer, irrational panic, I really didn’t
give it much thought at the time. When my name comes up on my membership card
as Kiki Floats at least I’ll know what happened.)
Grinned the entire ride back home, throwing a fist pump in the air only
at traffic lights.
Walked into the door of my house, twirled my dog/muse around a couple
hundred times, then cleaned up her puke… (NOTE
TO SELF: teenage dogs don’t appreciate “twirls” numbering more than two under
any circumstances.)
Went to bed last night so freaking proud of my Panic Disorder-self that
I nearly cried.
Until tomorrow…
Kiki
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