I have 15 minutes between appointments. Tony and Dominyk have been seen by the psychiatrist, Salinda has been to therapy and, thanks to Bart, taken to her old school to pick up her things. In 15 minutes we will leave so I can take her to her new school to get registered and meet with a guidance counselor.
She is quite crabby. Theories: 1) She's mad because I won't give her her cell phone back even though she traded it to me for something. 2) She's mad because she used too many minutes and has a cell phone bill she can't pay. 3) She's mad because she pushed to be transferred to another school and now that she can go she's not sure she wants to. 4) All of the above.
But the clincher is this: She's mad at me or at least acting like she is, which is is oh such a joy. Sure, I offer her choices, but it's she who chooses the wrong thing. But then I'm the problem for giving her the options, I suppose. Last night one of her lines in the midst of yet another worthless and annyoing discussion was "It's not my fault I don't have a job." Huh?
I'll be glad when this transition is over and truly do pray that this will give her a fresh start. We all sure need one.
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