Saturday, December 30, 2006
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Vehicle R.I.P.
Almost one year ago I was driving a brand new car. Close to a year later my car with 400 miles sits in a paint/body shop. The technicians are inspecting the car to see if it can be rebuilt.
I don't want a rebuilt car, I want the insurance to replace my car. Granted the car is a year old, it's still 'new', but I don't want to be driving around in a car that was in a wreck.
I can't bear to look at my once new car. I guess it's my fault that I forgot about the car in the impound yard, even thought they constantly called and sent me letters. It feels like I shut off the outside world, and not by choice.
I've been walking to the corner market to buy my necessities, it only takes me 5 minutes to walk back and forth. It's good therapy, and I don't need to take the taxi, but even though it's only a 5 minute walk the sound of roaring cars still scares me.
It does feel good to take a breath of fresh air, and one day I know that I'll drive again, but I don't know when that's going to be.
I would like to go to the movies and to the bookstores, but I can't walk there, and I can't afford to take another taxi, it's draining my bank account, even though I'm doing some odd research jobs at home, which helps. A reader suggested I take the bus, thank you for the tip but I don't like taking the bus, there's some nice people on board, but the majority of bus riders are dangerous and deranged. I don't mean to write something demeaning, especially about people who can't afford to buy a car or are unable to, but I fear for my safety when I'm on a bus, and I feel sorry for normal people who take the bus to and from work everyday, especially mothers with young children. It's not the safest method of transportation.
I'm really hoping that the auto body estimator will write off my car as a complete salvage so I can buy myself a new car. Not that I care about cars, to me they're nothing but transportation, nothing else. I'm not in love with my car. As long as it gets me to and from my destination, I'm fine.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Meeting the Psychiatrist.
I'll tell you what you can't see in the video. I definitely have not seen this woman before! Actually she was quite pretty, I was distracted. However I did confront her about this entire situation being staged or some sort of prank.
Of course she denied, being a mental health care professional I was surprised that she exploded into rage (maybe she needs to see a therapist). I looked around the room for any sort of clues. Nothing out of the ordinary. Pictures of her on vacation with her beau. A calendar on the wall, very conservative paintings on the wall (to make the patients feel at ease I suppose.
The room was rather small, the front office was equally as small. The Psych. desk was cluttered with papers, she didn't seem to be very organized, more disorganized than anything. It wouldn't win any kudos for it's use of space or interior design!
I did some research on the Psych. it turns out she's been at this particular location since 2002, before that she worked at a hospital. Nothing out of the ordinary.
During our hour long session she treated me like I was a prisoner, a criminal. Thankfully she took a break to use the loo.
I looked around the office. I inspected it for more detail. I was extremely cautious, she could have installed security cameras. I'm sure a patient has tried to attack her on more than one occasion.
There was several badly plastered and painted sections of the wall around the room. It looked like someone either threw their fist where her head once was or someone picked up a chair and threw it at her and missed.
The blinds in the room was dirty and worn out. It looked like she jumped out of the one story room more than once. Either that or she was using the screen less window as an ash tray. I did manage to take a peek outside the window, sure enough it was littered with cigarette butts, it looked like she threw the contents of her ash tray out the window. Don't you just love people who care for the environment?
The paint on the wall was a drab off white, horrible paint scheme, one would think that a psychiatrist would paint the walls with soothing colors or at least consult with an interior designer! But what would I know, because I've never been to a psychiatrist before!
There was something that puzzled me, there was a photograph, very old that was stuck halfway, sort of placed in a drawer at the last minute. The photo looked like it was taken in the mid 70's of two men, around 30 or so, standing, smiling in front of a brand new car, a Land Rover 109 5 door. In the background dozens of cars filled the massive building; several men wearing suits stood in the background of what looked like a car dealership, dozens of vehicles - a Mercedes 600 series saloon, a Range Rover, several Jaguar saloons and several men of Arab origin in the background inspecting the car.
I tried to take a shot with my surveillance camera but the psych. entered the room, somewhat suspicious. She asked me what I was doing and I told her that I wanted to be sure that she was on the up and up.
She was definitely a chain smoker, she said she had another client and was rushing me to hurry up.
The secretary was much more chatty, more down to earth, through clueless, she's only been working there for 2 weeks, so I couldn't ask her anything in detail. I was in the midst of asking her out for a cup of coffee when lo and behold the Psych. appeared tapping here feet and demanding that miss secretary retrieve some files for her on the next patient.
Hopefully for my follow up I'll be able to delve in further.
I'm still not driving, but being angry at what's happening I haven't been noticing my surroundings. I've been more at ease, probably because I'm furiously been trying to find out what's going on.
Friday, December 01, 2006
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