sundars bday party was a bust because of the assholes at cest what, and he kept talking about how it was his fault, how he wasnt agressive enough, and its not but it reminded me of how much blame occurs with with depressives--how much we are convinced that no one likes it, and its all our fault no matter how everyone else is fucking us over.

i keep trying to get him and rachel together, because i want him to hav all the fuun im not.

the bishop and the relief society head come to moms place, and though i was exiled to my bedroom, i heard large portions of the talk, and well its on--selling the place, moving her to a home, and shes worried about doing it is forcing me out, which was the ass kicking i need, the refusal to retreat into the same womb of childhood--shes also worried about what happened to her parents when they went into a home, worried about indepence, worried about death and worried about being not having anywhere for the grandchildren to come...all legit--and i am aparalyzed still that i am not doing all i can do, which apparently is unreasonable. thinking of the slow decay of some of my friends moms, and wondering and knowing what the rock and what the hard place is

i need to wite a registered letter to ray, telling him all of the stuff regarding the legal qaigmire, because it seems there is less and less a chance to get me to toronto. i wonder why glenys and he havent spent much time together.

i really really want to go back ome, edmonton is kiling me.

i worry that the eplispy is a phyiscal mannfiestion of concerns regarding empolybality, if its a way for my body to tell the world that i cannot work, or even if its just a way to get out of the way the rest of the word does business, a sort of cop[eralaztion of my laziness.

im not working as much on my book as i should.

ashley and dave have not contacted me, though i want to have lunch with them