My parrot keeps kissing me. It's extra nice because he was eating fresh strawberries and blueberries.

I wasn't in the mood to go to my gynecologist, but I did. On the way, a really horrible thing happened. A car ran over a wild animal. I saw it happen, but the poor thing wasn't killed instantly. There was nothing I could do. When I got to my doctor's office parking lot I called hubby to sort of get that sadness out to someone.

Once I finally saw my gynecologist, I felt much better. She's nice and I've known her for 20 years. On the way back from there, I went to some stores and my mood lifted a lot! Going to the ice cream parlor didn't hurt, either.

I was pretty darned upbeat by the time I got to the cashier at the grocery store. I believe I was loud and maybe a little crazy upbeat. Yea! The funny part was that when I turned to head out (smiling up a storm), I spotted one of my old therapists from maybe 8 years ago. He was smiling at me, and I think he heard my jovial "performance". One of those "Life is Marvelous" performances. We didn't speak to each other, but it was sort of surreal. I thought "Oh, my! Dude knows I'm basically singing Zippity Doo Dah this afternoon."

This therapist was the son of an extremely famous psychologist who passed away a few years back. Every therapist I've had since recognized his father's name. He always acted like he, himself, was famous as a result. But he's just the son of a famous psychologist. Anyway, I quit him for several reasons, including his tendency to act like he knew more than my psychiatrist. He even wanted me to quit my psychiatrist and go to another. I adore my psychiatrist and always have. My choice was clear. Plus, during a clear high-level irritable hypomania, I wrote him something pretty nasty in an email. It definitely got to him! [I'm normally a sweet lady, but when I get irritable manic, I can be as viscous as a Tasmanian devil.] Ugh! Well, we had a fight the next time I saw him and then the next day I left him a voice message telling him I was cancelling all future appointments. He called back and my husband answered. When I got on the phone I was pretty "up" and joyfully declared I wanted to get a new therapist in order to obtain a "fresh" perspective. When I hung up, my husband said that when he answered that this therapist sounded depressed. I think he knew he failed me. Actually, I think that therapist had a crush on me. The really nasty thing I wrote him was sort of related to my acknowledgement of that.