A Little Bit Of Crazy

I had a most interesting experience the other day.

Due to mega-night terrors, insomnia and other weird nightly happenings, I found myself walking through the Psych-Health center at the largest hospital in the city. I will admit it was a little surreal.
First off I have to say, the building was very modern, clean and new. A very nice facility. That’s not the part that got me.
It was the signs over doors labelled “Day Patients”, “Mood Disorders”, etc., etc. There was also the odd person sitting on steps in the building who looked like they “belonged there”. But wait a minute...I belonged there. I was in need of help and was in the right building to receive it.
I felt awkward and just a little panicked realizing I was a client in this overwhelming structure of mental health. What if people judged me? Or were wondering why I was there? I know I was wondering why they were there. But how could they know I wasn’t “crazy”? ( I am realizing how that word is so invalid. Nailing down “crazy” is like nailing down lime green Jello. And don’t we all have a little “crazy” in us?)
I realized they couldn’t know. Just like I couldn’t know what was troubling them. And does it really matter? Isn’t the good news that there are places such as that to get help? And all of us there were getting that help?
So, after a very productive and positive appointment, and with all these thoughts rolling around my head, I went directly to take care of some more very important business. I went to the salon and got my eyebrows waxed. That makes sense right? ;)
So, as my husband told me later after sharing this humbling experience with him, I should wear my craziness with pride.  So off I went...with my craziness as my outfit and my rash-red forehead to top it off.
Now that’s style!

A Not So "Grand Entrance"

So, I was wearing my favorite jeans today, running errands in town, when a very unfortunate happening happened. I had just finished a lovely coffee date with a very good friend, when I decided to "pop in" and see another friend hard at work at one of my least favorite places on the earth. That would be my dentist's office situated on Main Street. (Nothing personal Mrs. Dentist. You are very hospitable to offer your chair, but sitting in it makes me GAG!)
So back to Main Street...Due to my poor depth perception (or perhaps my natural flair for clumsiness), I rammed my foot into the step that I didn't see, rather than lifting my foot on top of it as I planned to make my grand entrance. I flew knees first onto the pavement, scraped my hands and crashed my head into the glass door in one not-so-fluid motion. (That was not the kind of "Grand" I was planning ;) In that instant, I did a mental check of all the important things...a) neck not broken, Check! b) no perfuse bleeding, Check! c) no hole in the knees of my favorite jeans, Check! Phew. I can go on living. I could barely lift my leg from gas to brake pedal to drive home, but I'll live. An ice pack is probably in order.
You may be thinking it ridiculous that I was worried about my jeans, but there's something you should know...I can only get them in the U.S. and I already tried to get a friend to pick me up another pair. Apparently that style doesn't seem to exist anymore! So when these ones are done, they're done! Egads!!! Not cool! And they already have a few problems...a grease stain on the thigh, the leather strap outlining the pocket has come out, etc. etc. But they are SOOOO Cute! And SOOOO Comfortable!
So, in my world of doc appts. and health issues, I try not to complain too much. But DON'T MESS WITH MY FAVORITE JEANS!!!
And did I mention I was on MAIN STREET?!? At the busiest intersection in town?!?
Well, maybe I'll go put some ice on that knee of mine.
And I think my ego could use some too. ;)