The lunchtime talking session went really well. I think it was the best conversation we've had to date, and the one where I did hardly any of the talking. Then I got talking to the mother. I got it chapter and verse. What I was told is not what I remember about when the bust-up happened. Never mind, it's all arms-length stuff as far as I'm concerned. She's never done me any harm and she's one of the few people who came to see me where I play, but that's as far as it goes.
Afterwards it was back to the library, where I found an email about the counselling, asking me to report there on Monday morning for another 'initial assessment'. I don't mind. I know it's going to happen now, rather than merely believing that it will. I don't like belief. It doesn't provide any real answers, only imaginary ones.
No comments:
Post a Comment