It was Anzac Day holiday today, so no session with Susan, which was disappointing, as I definitely still need them. I’d like to be different from what I am, but not sure how. Maybe a session tomorrow instead.
It rained all day today, so tonight I was a bit desperate and running out of ideas, so I went to Mum and Dad’s to watch telly with them — Father of the Bride. It was quite good, actually.
There was only one problem. Even though they are loaded and it would be impossible for them to spend ten per cent of their wealth before they die no matter how hard they tried, they won’t even try. Consequently, years ago, instead of buying a new digital TV, they bought a converter thing for their old analogue TV, and this TV emits a high-pitched whistle. It was as though Roger Whittaker had come in with me from the car (he’s still there) and had squatted down behind their television.
Anyway, as they’re old and decrepit, they can’t hear it, so every now and then I jumped out of my seat and hit the side of their TV, which would shut Roger up for a while.
I think they think I’m losing it. Mum asked me again when I left if I was seeing anyone. I’m not sure if she meant a fella or a psychologist. Or maybe dead people.