We have Christmas figured out. Well the gifts anyways. I still don’t know how we’re affording it. We’ll pull something out of our asses. We always do.

Jesse is teaching me how to count in binary on my fingers. I can get to 31 easy peasy lemon squeezy. It’s all 5 fingers on the right hand. Past that comes in a second hand and that’s where I start to sweat. The hard past is remembering with finger by itself is which value. From there it’s all pattern and fast addition. I will have this all memorized. Just give me time and this web site. Supposedly you can get to 1023. I’ll be happy counting to 50, maybe 100 if I get bored. I don’t have the patience required to get much higher than that.

I’m a geek in disguise. Ok, not really but kinda sorta. My key chain is a laptop hard drive. Jesse made it for me. Guess who hasn’t ever lost her keys, since it was made. Left them behind, yes, but lost, no.

So I was in an accident last week. I know I already blogged that part but I didn’t really go into detail how bad it was. I kinda wasn’t ready to admit it to myself. In the process of hitting the curb, I went up and over it. I shredded 2 tires, bent two rims, bent the alignment, broke the break housing lose, and something about the shocks. Is my car still drivable? Well, only because we don’t really have much choice. We need a car. Fixing it is more than we can afford and more money than the car is worth. We have put so much money into the car already and it isn’t worth it to put more into it. What we need to do is get a new car. Something that will hold multiple children. A mini van is what we really need. And if we get the tax return we are suppose to I think we’re going to try and make that happen. If not we’ll have to get the car fixed. If we don’t get any tax return, like my downer father is predicting, we’ll pretty much be screwed. He thinks we are already getting our EIC in my paychecks. If that were the case my checks would be larger and there would be a line in there about the EIC. It isn’t listed. I know they aren’t withholding anything so we won’t be getting anything back there, but we should still be getting our EIC.

So I didn’t confess how the accident happened in earlier mentioning of it either. In truth, I was too tired to be driving. It was 8:30 in the morning. I was fighting to stay awake. And losing the battle more than I care to admit. Did I actually fall asleep? No. Was I too close? Yes. And this wasn’t a 1 time offense. You’ll be happy to know that the problem has been solved. Pat is now taking me to work every morning. I explained the problem to him and he readily agreed. It puts more miles on the dying car and burns twice as much gas, but next time could have meant my life.

I have a really hard time waking up in the morning. I sleep through alarm clocks and it take literally a couple of hours, sometimes, for me to become fully functional. I blame my meds. I’m sure the Ambien doesn’t help. I can’t get restful sleep without it. I’m a zombie every morning regardless, basically. Either it’s because I didn’t sleep or because I took a sleep aid. One of the two effects ware off with time.

So I’m not sure but I think I’m getting my dot com for Christmas. What that means is, this web address for this blog will be changing. What I need to find out is will the current address direct you to the new one once the change is made? I honestly don’t know. It’s all being done through blogger so it’s quite possible but I can’t be positive till I read it for sure either way. The new address will be www.walkingtheborderline.com. I’m really excited. (EDIT: “Your original Blog*Spot address will automatically forward to your new domain. That way, any existing links or bookmarks to your site will still work.” Oh good, I don’t have to worry about losing readers in the change.)

I had therapy today. Group and individual. Individual was harder than usual because I wasn’t in a very talkative mood. I’m not sure why. I also didn’t have anything major to talk about aside from the accident. We discussed it and then from there not much of anything. We still talked some but I’m sure she felt like she was pulling teeth trying to get words from me. I should apologize next week. Why do I feel like therapy should be perfect? Why do I feel like I should have to be the model patient? I’m not saying I want to throw temper tantrums and storm out. I’ve seen it happen in group, and that’s just not me. But why do I feel like I have to be perfect? People with BPD have a rep of being difficult to work with in therapy. If the worst I give my therapist is not being talkative once in awhile, then in the end I think I was good enough. Part of me feels that not being talkative would be a waste of her and my time. Another part of me is chiming in saying, “No wait this just means she’s seeing you depressed. Isn’t she suppose to see this side of you?” Now I don’t know what to think.

In closing I would like to inform you all that in finger binary the number 4 is the middle finger on the right hand, and just the middle finger. And on that note, goodnight.