I have a sudden urge to call you the Three Kings of something. Three Kings of Happy Birthday? I dunno, that's not it...
Colin says he didn't remember it, but he doesn't remember it not being there.
My parents are having parent freakouts. They suggested daily checkins to make sure I am alright, which I flatly refused, along with any "make contact in a certain time period or else we call SWAT to your apartment" Because I will set that off, they will freak out, and it will be nothing I want to add to my day.
Then they insisted on Colin's number, because he's clearly my best friend, so...NO Colin's number is of no use to you. You have no idea ow often he travel, or how busy he gets--it's not like we're in each other's pockets or anything.
"Well, then, whose pockets are you in?"
"Buffistas would probably know."
"How? ow often do you see them?"
It kind of devolved, but at least Allyson is the one whose contact info hangs in the balance now--which means I could change them some small anount.
Then my mother flipped out about methadone. I tried to tell her she was having an emotional reaction based about her associations with methadone, and that plenty of other medications shouldn't be stopped without tapering them down, and they're not being sold by a suspish character on the corner.
She stuck to her right to be scared about my health, but I told her that given that (which I did) putting that amount of irrational and illogical emotion on me without a plan, or any reasons that I should change my medical treatment is not helping me--it's stressing me out and making me anxious. If she can't bring her scientific method to bear on this, I don't want to know about it. She needs to find a different confidante, someone further from the problem, instead of the problem itself.