Weird dreams (not nightmares, just dreams) about fighting off zombie ghost demons in the basement of some creepy beach house that my family had moved into in Newport, MA. This has become a running theme — dreaming of my family moving to Newport, that is, not the zombie ghost demons. The zombie ghost demons come from watching Doctor Who the other night, I think. But. I digress. I zombify.
Dr Maude heads off for Cali in a day and a half. A sudden weird feeling has overtaken me. Seeing as how I have not been able to get ahold of J (please tell me, J, that you did not pull an A, and everything will be okay) in the past month, I am realizing that the closest person I know lives approx. 10,000 miles away. … … … This is why I so desperately wanted someone to come visit while the doctor was going to be away, or to have myself a trained assistance dog by this point. If I fall or my knee locks up, I am up shit\’s creek.
Most likely, as I am a paranoid motherfucker when it comes to this sort of thing, I am going to be leaving my cam+microphone on 24/7 during those 10 days. In terms of precaution, it\’s the only thing I can come up with, short of strapping the phone to my ass and carrying it with me at all times (which won\’t do me much good when the batteries run out). Honestly, how do other gimpy types make it on a day to day basis without a strong support system? This was the crux of my therapy sessions for years, and I have yet to come up with a solution that I like.
Other than the fear of falling, I am quite looking forward to ten days alone. Classes start in a few hours, but it feels like my vacation is only really just getting ready to start. I predict a fruitful and relaxing fortnight of fun. (And please, if there is a god for gimps, I\’m begging you for a ten day respite from anaphylaxis and sudden bouts of joint locking. I\’ll offer you the rest of the winter in bed with a fourth round of double pneumonia if you\’ll just let me get through these ten days on my own.)
Is there a patron saint for independence?