The road so far... (in which Mys' life feels too much like S3 of SPN, if only in my head)
- finally get a call back from the psych ward and they give me appt with someone I've never heard of on the 31st
- get the paper with the doc's name and exact time for the appt and, unless I'm completely off, they book me with a psychologist not a psychiatrist. *head desk* This is useless for me wanting/needing my cocktail messed with.
- I can barely be bothered with anything, even tumblr
- when I am over there I wind up all angsty and upset (more than is called for) over three generations of Reichenbach and random acts of Jeremy Brett.
- I've been working through my Who, and am at, well, the change over from Ten to Eleven... just thinking about it makes me disturbingly weepy
- it was the SPN finale last night, and damn it, I kinda want to watch it, even though I hear it's big
- and just now, one of the other players in my game (the only thing I am really being any good at being bothered with 'cause, hey, casting spells and stealing things from ppl makes me happy) has sent what is either a badly worded encouragement or, to my way of thinking right now, insults under a flimsy veil of half-arsed sarcasm.
- I think I'll just go to bed and cry now.