We need a new post, so here it is

Brain jostling around in the skull tonight. Hang on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

Got our taxes did. We don't do them ourselves, a friend of ours is a tax preparer and we take them to her. After the time that the IRS corrected our return to give us a couple thousand dollars that Superman missed in deductions, we've had them professionally done. Superman is a super man, very smart and good at many things, but he's not anything like an accountant. I'm smart, but my brain doesn't work along those lines, either. Ironic, really, because my mother has made a nice living for the past 30 years as an accountant. But that's not what I came to tell you. Did you know that for the 2009 tax year there is a deduction for college expenses? I don't know the nature of it; that's why my friend does our taxes. For those of you keeping score at home, remember that there are three members of our family who are now in college. Our refund. Wow. We've never gotten a five figure refund before. (Small values of five figures, but five figures nevertheless.) Superman is excited about getting a lot of bills paid off.

Did I tell you about my social psychology class? Did I tell you that social psychology is fine in theory, but a bunch of bunk in practice? I mean no offense to any practicing social psychologists among you. I have friends who are social psychologists. I'd even allow them to use my bathroom. However, this class is driving me crazy. I have been encouraged by people I respect to drop the course. After today's class, I'm more strongly considering it. There's a group project due on Thursday, so if I withdraw from the class, it won't be until after Thursday. I don't want to leave my group hangin'.

Took Diva to her therapy session this afternoon. I think I mentioned that she's starting with a new therapist now. This group is part of the state system of behavioral health care, and they have a psychiatrist on staff, both of which the last place lacked. I liked the previous therapist much much much much better. She wouldn't let Diva get away with bullshit. The lady she's seeing now, though a sweet woman, doesn't give the impression of being savvy to the special kind of fuck-up-ed-ness that Diva displays. I had a private discussion with the gal after she talked to Diva. I told her that the girl's condition is much worse than it outwardly appears. Here's the thing: she's a liar and a thief. She has spurned every one of my attempts to develop a loving parental relationship with her, but not at first. She plays along with me until I begin to think we're really getting somewhere. Once I have some hope and confidence about our relationship, she does something deliberately, overtly damaging to me or something that is important to me. She has built me up only to smash me down so many, many times that I am no longer capable of trying to relate to her. I provide for her physical needs, and make small meaningless overtures to pretend like I'm a "good mother," but I cannot be emotionally available to her. I told that to the therapist, though I wish I'd told is as well as I just wrote it. C'est la vie.

In Death and Dying class today the prof had us write our deathbed scene, as if for a movie. How old am I? Where am I? Who is with me? How do I feel, both physically and emotionally? What is causing my death? That sort of thing. I wrote for a while. In my story I'm between 70 and 90, in my own bed at home, and Superman has died within the past year. My children are with me, but only if they can get along and not fuss. There is more detail, but nothing important. What I came to tell you is this exercise really upset me, more than I thought it would. I am not afraid of death. Hell, a lot of days I'm eager for it. I'm not even sure what exactly upset me.

I must go make cookies. I promised to provide cookies for the psychology club bake sale at school tomorrow. Not sure what I'm going to make. Probably oatmeal. They're a good sturdy cookie.

TTFN