Panic Face

I received a panic-stricken phone call from my mother this morning.  She was calling to do a sanity check on me.  :-)

To be fair, I can't say that I blame her.  After all, she was the one who came to my new apartment several years ago to unpack me while I sat in the middle of the living room floor crying for absolutely no reason.

She and my dad have bailed me out of more impulsive decisions than I care to admit (thankfully, the "bailing out" has never been jail-related! :-).  My "impulsive episodes" tend to be financial.  Like moving from Texas to Oregon because it was pretty.  Moving back to Texas a year later because no one stopped to help me when I got a flat tire.  (If I had been home, I would have had my flat tire changed, the tires rotated, and would probably have been provided dinner while it was happening!  Texans ROCK!!!)  I've moved an hour and a half away from work back to my hometown because I was sick of living in an apartment in the city and just needed some peace and quiet.  That move lasted 8 months, when I got sick of commuting three hours a day and I moved right back in to the same apartment complex that I had just left.  I've dropped out of college to work full time.  I've quit jobs to go back to school full time.  Yep.  Most of my more impulsive decisions made when I'm off my meds tend to be what we refer to as my "Multi-Thousand Dollar Brain Farts," so I can't really blame my mom for panicking when she saw my last post about the possibility of purchasing a six bedroom home so I can take in troubled teens.  :-)

I hope I was successful in assuring her that, while I may be a little touched in the head, I am not stupid.  No, I have absolutely no intention of buying a large home in the country where I can rehabilitate teenage gangsters through handbell choir music (although, how cool would that be if it actually worked?!?).  While I am considering renting a house (that I can afford) close to work, and possibly increasing my fostering age range and number of children slightly, I'm not doing anything until I've been on my new medication for a couple of months.  I'm pretty sure everything is going to be just fine.  I did, after all, finally find something to wear to Monkey's 1st birthday party on Sunday, so the world is no longer coming to an end.  ;-)