Final grades are in. Killed it!
Also: nearly killed myself. Phew. Glad this particular session is over. Next set of classes starts in two days. I already have some chapters to read and handouts to complete. It will have to wait until tomorrow. Today was a day of no obligations. Which turned out to be a really good day.
The first news was that grades has been posted and I got all A’s, meaning I somehow managed to maintain that damn 4.0. Apparently my classmates did not fare so well, which is both disappointing and glorious. I’m sad for them because I do genuinely wish well on people. But listen, I am happy to be the outlier who helps shape that bell curve. Just saying.
Then River weighed herself (as she does every single morning) to see that we finally broke through this weird plateau and reached the second goal weight that she’s set for us, which made her very happy. She has five goals in total, I believe. The third and next one is another 14lbs lower, so this is a short-lived victory. But, still, something to be happy about I suppose. Even if only for a brief moment.
Actually, there’s a lot more to that and I hope I can articulate it on here someday because I think it’s pretty important stuff.
Then, since Wife had the day off, we decided to have some victory shawarma at this local hole-in-the-wall falafel restaurant we’ve been wanting to try out. Whoa, not disappointed. So good!
While we were sitting at a table outside waiting for our food to be served, an elder Buddhist monk stopped and placed bracelets on our wrists. He barely spoke any English, but he blessed the beads and wished us peace. Then he showed Wife a photo of a Buddhist temple that had obviously burned down. He was seeking donations to help re-build. We were unclear as to whether the temple was local or perhaps he was gathering money to send to his home temple in China, but we gave him all the cash we had. It wasn’t much because we generally don’t carry cash bills on us. I wish it had been more.
I felt very touched and grateful for this strange (yet classic NYC) moment. When he first approached me, I thought it was one of these shopping-by-assault moments you experience in Manhattan. Vendors put actual products on you and then start asking for money to pay. It’s obnoxious.
It wasn’t until I looked up that I saw he was a monk and that he was giving these handmade bracelets as gifts. He was hoping for generosity in return, of course, but it wasn’t a requirement. The jewelry was ours to keep no matter what. As was the blessing for peace.
I don’t know. I feel weirdly shaken up about the whole exchange. But I’m glad I was sitting at that table when he walked by. I think he and I were meant to exchange energy in some way.
After lunch we did some impromptu shopping while waiting for the next showing of “Pitch Perfect 2” to begin. I found some cute sandals and Wife found two lovely dresses. She’s not a shorts person, so she lives in dresses whena it gets really hot.
The movie was exactly what I expected – fun, weird, ridiculous, energetic, amusing. Definitely entertaining. I adore Anna Kendrick and Elizabeth Banks. And I’m always happy to throw my money at films directed by women, especially when they have a cast full of female protagonists. Win!
Yesterday I talked briefly with the therapist about longer sessions. Well, I quickly commented that I’d mentioned it to Wife. Therapist immediately caught my comment (of course) and said, “Oh, so you’re thinking about it then?” with a tone that seemed dangerously close to hope and optimism. I don’t know what her angle is here. Maybe she really believes she can help me and that having more space would assist her in doing so? Maybe she’s getting attached and invested? Whew, that’s a scary thought.
Either way, I told her I didn’t want to make a decision yet. She said, “Okay, we can do that on Friday.” I just looked at her. “Okay, maybe we can talk about it more on Friday…?”
So that’s that. Also, she called today and gave me the name and number of a male psychiatrist who comes “highly recommended” by her fellow trauma therapists. Gah. I hate psychiatrists. I don’t want to do this again. Especially since I looked up his office and it’s right near Zooey’s. Damn.