I got a call, Sophie's little voice asking me to bring her poster project, for her author talk on the guy who wrote The House with a Clock in its Walls. I thought we had one more day, so the thing is quite sparse and frankly I don't know how she'll do a talk at all. I cringe when I think of it, poor kid! We should have worked on it yesterday and I'm totally kicking myself for not remembering it. I hope this isn't one of those seminal moments when she figures out that public speaking is horrifying. She's a little more resilient than I am, but not much, so I'm sure I"ll get a report after school. Grim!
I went to the pharmacy and you'll be happy to hear that I sorted out the buspar confusion.
Almost time to see pdoc. I'm not sure what to tell him except that I'm very anxious indeed. Everything is like a tunnel of nerves. I'm able to have panic attacks even through two kinds of anti-anxiety medication. Go me! But then again, it's fueling my return to school and I'm keeping on top of things. I wish I could find a way to be on top of things without the nerves. Possibly we can discuss it.
Time to go. Have a good hour or two.
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