Today was Therapy…. Wednesday.
Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?
Apparently at some point Doc Costin told me that my appointment had been moved from one o’clock this Friday to noon today.
I have no recollection of this but given my occasionally spotty active memory I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
It was originally moved to Friday from the usual Thursday because he has a medical appointment on Thursday.
Anyhow, I had just finished up in the bathroom when the phone rang and it was Therapy with Doctor Costin time.
Oh well, it’s not like I was doing anything important.
I’m actually quite proud of how good I have gotten at just dropping whatever I am doing to do therapy when things like this happen.
Pretty good for someone who dislikes surprises as much as I do.
We talked about this n’ that, as usual. The Great Betrayal when my parents took my brother Dave and I out of university came up. Apparently he had forgotten that I had already told him how I went along with the whole thing willingly because I was just that eager to please my parents.
My mother even said, “We’re only going to do this if you agree to it” or something along those lines. I could have just said no and kept my life intact and on course.
But nope. For my whole life, a big part of my role in the family was to be okay with everything. To go where I’m told and stay where I’m put. To be a total doormat who always did whatever was asked and was always ready to sacrifice his own best interests so someone else could get their needs met.
Honestly, most of the time I didn’t even know what my needs were.
That led to me telling Doctor Costin all about how I never stood up for myself as a child at all. I certainly never advocated for myself. I was too busy trying to survive on the tiny little scraps of attention I got from my family.
I already always felt like I was barely being tolerated and that if I became even slightly more of a hassle to look after, they’d just give up and abandon me.
But that was never going to happen. Because they’d already abandoned me.
My fault for being a surprise, I guess.
No wonder my self esteem has historically been so terrible.
I also spoke with Doc Costin about my growing confidence and ability to actually appreciate my own extraordinary gifts and let that be reflected in my self-worth.
Which led to my mentioning how I have known I was extraordinarily gifted since I was three years old, or at least since my first days in school, and how for some reason it never made me feel any better about myself.
Partly that’s because I took it for granted. Like I have said before, it’s hard to value something that comes so easily to you.
But mostly it’s because I never got any positive reinforcement from it. Nobody ever told me, “Hey wow, you are amazing, you’re going to go far!”.
Well, except for Mrs. Moase who ran the corner store.
But other than her, nobody, Not my family, not my teachers, not the school administrators, nobody. There I was, an incredible jewel of a student, and nobody encouraged me at all.
If anything, it just annoyed my teachers and left me bored as hell and completely unchallenged in class.
Heck, I didn’t even get a nod at VFS and I was by far the best writer there.
Maybe I am just too god damned shy and humble.
If I had to do VFS all over again, I would go in there with a massively cocky attitude and see how that works out for me.
I mean, what the fuck. Why the hell not?
It pays to advertise.
More after the break.
I am bewildered
So tonight, I ordered some lamb curry from a place called Tandoori Oven.
When it arrived, it was not what I expected.
For one thing it was burned. Definitely burned. I mean, check this out :
The too-dark color was the first thing I noticed when I unwrapped it. But I thought maybe that’s just what the curry from this place looks like.
But then I noticed an odd and out of place aroma. Then I tasted the curry and that confirmed what my nose had told me.
It smelled – and taste – like burned cinnamon rolls.
Not what I was looking for. I was definitely going to complain via DoorDash but it was still edible so I wasn’t that pissed off yet.
So I go to dig in and see something white and vaguely tubular sticking out of my curry.
I take it out and ITS A PIECE OF FUCKING BONE.
And then I found two more.
I mean, check this shit out.
I mean, can you fucking believe it? I’ve had ordered get fucked up before but this is a whole new order of magnitude worse.
It’s beyond “damn it, they fucked up my order” and well into “I did not think this kind of thing could happen here” with a hearty dash of, “how DOES this happen here?”
So you better bet I complained via DoorDash. And I complained under the “Food health/safety” category because duh, and even jumped through the hoop of taking the pictures they now demand with my webcam as proof.
Why do they now require pictures with complaints? Fuckheads, presumably. People abusing the system making life harder on everybody.
So yeah, this definitely sets a new low water mark. Imagine if I had not seen that glimpse of tubular whiteness before chowing down.
At minimum I would have chipped a tooth.
At maximum that one bone would have choked me to death.
So, not good.
Oh, and the kicker : I found two more chunks of bone.
Oh well, at least the garlic naan is good.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.