There have been discussions with school after Son#2 (he is only 7!!) got detention for the gazillionth time (and he's such a rule-follower, not a trouble maker at all).
His teacher is not kind, inexperienced, hormonal.
And when you're 7 and not particularly self-confident, you need a kind teacher.
Son#1 has a new teacher whom he still needs to get used to (and he ran away from school - again).
Then an altercation with my employer who thought it prudent to cut my contract down (legally, he hasn't a leg to stand on and implied that I'm a bad employee for asking for my rightful salary).
Panic attacks.
Two of them.
I had to see a psychiatrist to see if I'm depressed or not.
Funny thing - I don't feel depressed at all.
But she thought so anyway.
Mmmmm.
Tomorrow I have to see the immunologist in Rotterdam.
Son#2 is dreadfully sick, running a helluva fever.
But I have tropical-island-escape-plans in my head...
Escape this void consumerism: the design furniture, the fake veneer of supposed perfection and success, the close proximity of others here in the Nether Lands that makes my skin crawl.
I don't want to keep up with the Joneses.
I want to shoot them.
.
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