Today Daphne acted up, vomited, ran out the front door and Chris had to chase her down the block. I experienced a manic dysphoria/dysphoric mania that resulted in calling Chris, who was at the shop getting the Ford's oil changed, and sobbing into the phone about the spiders living in my brain.
There are no spiders living in your brain, he said, I promise.
Later I made dinner: quinoa with butter, chicken broth, plum tomatoes, and delicate salmon filets. I finished my work. I wore my favorite sweatshirt.
And I have been hurt, lately, by a dear friend, and I don't know what to do.
What have you been doing?