Cogito, ergo, whatever…
Freud said that anxiety gets transformed by defenses–or some such thing. I ate that chocolate bar while I was studying because the snap of the hard bar stood in for my anger…my snapiness at this studying. So nice to know why one is scarfing chocolate.
I went to LA the other day for a review class for these comps. Here’s what I did: I flew out of Sacramento in the late morning, picked up a car, drove to school, met M., sat with her in her class on Passion, got into her lllllllarrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggeeeeeeeeee (7 miles to the gallon) car and drove through rush hour on the 405 to Irvine. There I sat in a cramped, crowded little classroom while the prof stood in front and went through the test. Know this…know that…what’s the whatchamacallit…what would you do… He did this for 58 questions. Out of 100. It took an hour. Then M and I drove back to LA, she dropped me at school, I got into my rented car and drove back down to Torrance, where I slept in my 7 year old nephew’s bed in his bright blue Buzz Lightyear bedroom (he won’t sleep there and I don’t blame him). The next morning I dropped off my car and flew back to Sacramento. M feels it was a worthwhile trip. Perhaps that’s because she got to sleep in her own bed.

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Blimey. Poor parents. Perhaps they should ask the kid how he’d like his room decorated! No, that’s NOT a good situation.
I hate sleeping away from home, too. Other beds are always the wrong hardness and give me backache and the grumps, BIGtime.
Ack.
Always, or only since the Buzzification of his room?
on a single bed in his parents’ bedroom…
He won’t sleep in his bedroom? Where does he sleep?