BILLY ELLIOT

I get stuck in the apartment because cooking and cleaning and dressing takes so much time.

I want to empty the place.

I did tackle some calls to the doctor for my SAG retirement.
And I opened some bills.

I called my mom because she texted me about her coming visit.
I told her I found friends to take the additional (expensive!) orchestra seats for Billy Elliott and she told ME that my brother was coming after all.

I went through the roof.

I was angry because I emailed him requesting him to visit and join us , but instead of emailing ME back, he calls my mother (I guess?) and says he'll come.

Why can't he email ME?! I just assumed when I didn't hear from him that it was (out of the question), that he's overwhelmed.

Maybe he called my mother to tell her he didn't want to come or couldn't get away and she strong-armed him into coming (since I have this fatal disease) and he simply hadn't gotten around to emailing me back with a "yes". (this is likely the case)

I"ve  given away the tickets.

My rage (on the phone) made me think about how I wasn't acting with love and truth.
It doesn't really matter. The tickets.
I was acting out.
But, I feel sad that my brother can't email correspondence with me.

So...

I swam in the pool.
I made an appointment to get gluthotione intraveniously tomorrow and to see the accupuncturist.
I got on my bike to go grocery shopping and got all the way down to Whole Foods in Chelseas and realized I left my wallet at home.

I biked back through Chelsea by the West Side Highway.
It was packed, (and I mean packed!) with the young art crowd.
It was 7-ish. I was reminded of Halloween at dusk when the neighborhood is over-run with kids.

I came home and sat in the lobby and read a book.
Later, I signed up for an organic food delivery service and made a tepid order with Food Direct for basic groceries. I'm not a food enthusiast. So buying food is a chore. If I could, I would drink coffee and eat corn chips all day.