I hope that works well for you, Susan; it sounds very sensible.

I did a preview picture of Emmett when I got his costume together.

So freakin' cute!!!

Susan, it sounds like your pastor is giving good advice. And, he's there for you to call on, it's part of his job. You shouldn't feel bad for doing it.

Emmett looked so awesome!

That is SPECTACULAR.

He looked even better last night because we got the wig tugged down a little better to cover his hair. Several folks said he had the best costume all night, though I think they were really won over by his commitment to character (he didn't talk the whole time he was trick or treating, only whistled, mimed and honked his horn). He was able to get his whistle to sound like the cadence of "Thank you."

Most people knew who he was, but one of the funniest exchanges went like this.

Emmett walks up stairs to somebody's house for candy.

Candygiver: "Who are you? A hobo?"
Emmett: [shakes head emphatically "No" - whistles and mimes playing the Harp]
Emmett's Mom: "He's one of the Marx Brothers."
Candygiver: "Oh, I Know! You're Purple Marx!"
12 y.o. Black Kid standing behind Emmett: [shaking his head in disgust] "Man, he's Harpo Marx."
Emmett: [whistles, touches his nose and points at kid behind him. Honks horn.]

GO EMMETT!

Oh, that's cool.

"Oh, I Know! You're Purple Marx!"

Man, he's not a Teletubby.

Emmett: [whistles, touches his nose and points at kid behind him. Honks horn.]

That is *beautiful.*

I hope you find some peace and calm in your break, Susan.

You're very welcome back here when you're ready.

Any old fancy place you like at the Ferry Building.

Oh man. Good stuff.

Hec, I can't express how much the offer means. I feel like a dork saying thanks, but not right now. BUT once things lighten up a touch, I'll be over there. My office is not far from BART, so it would be an easy jump across the bay.

My best Halloween moment last night came when I was having an interior monologue about "Where has the magic gone?"

Right then a deer came up the street. I shone my flashlight, and my son said "MOM! Haven't you ever heard of a DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS?". So I turned it off. The deer went clickety-click up the hill, passed us, and went on about its deerly business.

That'll do.

A few months ago, you were considering and/or talking to your NP about anxiety and ways of coping with it, weren't you? (I think you were, but anything that happened while I was pregnant is a weird blur because my brain wasn't functioning right.) It sounds like, between your father's death, the novel, your job hunt, and the normal grind of parenting, your anxiety levels are through the roof again. Can you talk to her again? Maybe see if there are new strategies for coping that will give you a fresh perspective?

Right now it's waiting until I get a job. The way our insurance is structured, it pays 60% of the costs of most counseling-type treatments, and the stress of putting the remaining 40% onto our gradually escalating credit card debt feels like it'd make my anxiety worse rather than better.

I hope you find some peace and calm in your break, Susan.

You're very welcome back here when you're ready.

Thanks, Hec. I really appreciate that.