I Got Lucky Today.

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Yup! That was my Speedometer this morning as I started the car. Lucky #7.

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Yup! Those are my slippers that I forgot to take off this morning on my way to THREE meetings! Too late to turn around at that point.

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Yup! That’s my dog that I had lost in the wilds of Wyoming! (He was found and is safe and sound – I THINK).

Is this all starting to sound like a bad country song? Good. Because it is.

No, it wasn’t that bad of a day, but something in my gut is just not right today and I don’t know why. I chalk it up my razor sharp intuition or pure nonsensical and pointless worry.

The day started out good, as you can see….my speedometer read 77777 as I started it up this morning. Logically, that means a good day, right? After all the 7 indicates the senses of a change after an accomplished cycle and of a positive renewal. Amen. Spot on.

Then I noticed half way through my drive that I had my slippers on. It was too late to turn around as I was already on the backroads and in the wilderness at this point. I would have to suck it up and sport them to IOP, my individual session, and a meeting with my case manager. All lasting about 4 hours in total, not counting driving…which added on another 3 at least actually.

So, the good things? Today was my last day of Intensive Outpatient Treatment and I step down into Regular Outpatient Treatment (sounds odd, but what I am saying is that I moving on and upward). I have been in IOP for about 5 months now and it is time to move onto the next phase.

In IOP, the recovery housing called and I have an interview set up for Monday! So that is great news. I could be moving in as early as Monday! Out of this house and into a more positive environment.

Then met with my individual counselor and did paperwork, again signing over my life to the world. And then finally, I met with my case manager, who also filled out tons of paperwork, once again…signing over my life to the world. That’s kind of exhausting actually. I cannot tell you how much paperwork it takes to be a recovering Alcoholic and Bipolar chick in this world.

Now onto the dog. Someone called from TEN SLEEP, Wyoming. I didn’t answer and there is no message. Now, no one, not even creditors call me from Wyoming. It’s a long story about the dog. If you want to read, go to “Yellowstone Had It’s Day”. Basically, very long story short – I lost him in Wyoming. A week and a half later, he was found by an adoring couple and by that time I had already flown home to Philly to be placed in a number of mental facilities. I bought him on a manic whim on my trip out west and I owe the original owner some money for him. I couldn’t pay, because I am not working. My father wouldn’t help, so I had her prank calling me at all hours of the night hounding me for money until finally, she sent an order from her lawyer.

Now, the only people to call me from Wyoming were the Cody Police Department to let me know that my dog had been found safe. There are only one of two people that would call me from Wyoming and that is the police or the new couple.

I expect it to be bad news. I don’t know why. I just do. I have an aching feeling in my heart that the sky would crumble down after all that is well and good in the world. Even after all the good that happened today, I want to just crumble and bawl my eyes out. Something just isn’t right. And I can sense that shit a mile away.

I will gather the courage to call the number and act like the adult I am. Maybe it is good news. Ugh, I hate that I can handle big things like a mental disorder & recovery, but when it comes to making a simple phone call or opening my mail, I panic! What is up with that?!

Okay, update: I just called the number right back. “Your Call Can Not Be Completed As Dialed…”

I’m gonna listen to some tribal music and try to convince myself that it was TexMex – a Texan I met in Montana. I still, to this day, don’t know his name.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. My lucky numbers are 1.98 per gallon. Woo-HOO!

    1. haha! Nice! Amen to that.

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