After coming home, Scott and I lost a couple of hours of our lives to 'National Treasure'. I'm pissed and I want them back! That movie was more predictable than an episode of Scooby Doo.
I'm kind of glad that tomorrow is therapy. I have this impending sense of doom. It's like I could lose it at any minute, but am somehow restrained. I know it's only the anxiety disorder talking. It truly feels like the other shoe is going to drop. Things go too well for a while, and I think that something big is going to happen. It won't stop in my head. I'm just this side of angry. I'm just this side of depressed. I'm just this side of sane. Does everyone live like this?
Does the kitten get shot, or not?