Airport musings

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I think (i do that sometimes), perhaps, my doctor may have done me a great disservice by telling me that she thinks i need a psychiatrist instead of a psychotherapist. Since then, I’ve felt very aware of my poor mood and realized how many of the symptoms of depression i have. As Eeyore says so well – bother.

I’m sitting here, watching the sun set over the gates, and i realized that i’m not the least bit excited. I’m happy to be going. I’m looking forward to seeing Ilyusha. I’m just not brim-full of bubbling energy. The only times i seem to feel like that anymore are when i am with friends to feed off their energy and put on a bit of a show. Lord, i hate the drama queen in me.

I will return to re-reading The Wind in the Willows. Last time i had the pleasure, i could not have been more than twelve, probably around nine, and it was on loan from the McCaig library. I was reading it in my Nana’s bed on Brockville Street. I remember it was winter. There used to be a TV show, yes? Or am i just remembering my own over-active imagination? I’m noticing parallels to my other favourite Watership Down and that stupid YTV show with Hammy the Hamster that i can’t remember the name of.

I did relish writing “Heather Stein – Toronto to San Francisco – Dec 2007” on the first page though. Small pleasures. Now i can’t leave it on the plane as planned though. Shucks.

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