I went to bed around 4:30 A.M. and was fast asleep within 15 minutes. At 12:30, the alarm clock went off. I got up and ready for my seventh visit to psycho-medic centrum Parnassia. I got on the bus around 1 P.M. leaving me with 30 minutes to get to Parnassia, which should be sufficient. About halfway, the bus took a (for me) unexpected turn. Hmm. Perhaps they're working on the road.
After 4 or 5 stops, the bus was not getting closer to the track I was expecting. Fuck. I'm on the wrong bus.
I got out, and waited for a ride back to the point where it took the wrong turn. That took long enough. When I got there, I was still only halfway, thus; waiting for the bus again—the good one, this time. When it finally arrived, I was already late. Fuck.
I hate being late.
Anyway. My psycho-therapist Jansen did take a couple of minutes to talk a little. I mentioned the ADHD thing, which in his eyes also makes a lot more sense than bipolar. I also mentioned my axiety attack from two days ago. Because of this, and the fact that I most likely do not have a psychotic manic side, he offered me to go on antidepressives (you don't want to mix antidepressives with a manic episode), but he's got to talk to my psychiatrist (Vincent) about that.
Even though our conversation only lasted a couple of minutes, I felt pretty good about it—but I had to hurry again because of my next appointment (My mom had made an appointment for me at the barbershop for 2 P.M. I really didn't feel like going, but hey; I've got a resolution to work with. Besides, it's been over a year—I really did need a haircut (even though I never stopped being sexy). When I arrived at the bakershop (late, somewhat), he (Frank) had alread accepted another customer because, well, I was late—so I had to wait.
Waiting is not something I've enjoyed doing lately. When I have to wait, I'm going to think, and when I think, shit hits the fan. Luckaly, there was a Metro (or a Sp!ts), so I had something to read (although my eyes didn't quite manage to get passed the picture of some most beautiful Indian woman of the Netherlands
competition on the first page, but I'm not complaining). I also sketched some little ACJ
logos on a piece of paper to kill the time.
When Frank was done (which was fairly quick, or so it seemed), we chatted a bit first, then he washed my hair, and then he went to the cutting. First thing he did was cut off a huge tail from the back. While I was sitting there, I was somewhat anxies, but not to the point where I can't manage it. It really helped that we were talking along the way, and about a rather relevant subject too. He—like I stated before—has ADHD and knows depression. The more he told about his life (he's 49), the more I recognized in myself and my dad. He's so much like me, it's eerie, but comforting at the same time.
Even though our conversation was comforting, I was very pleased when he was done. In the first place because of my new (much lighter) head, but also because I could relax now. I went to my homecourt to shoot some hoops, even though it was crazy hot. Because of the heath, but mainly because there was nobody else there, I decided to head into town and shop for some new basketball clothes.
First I went to USA Sportstore, but they didn't have anything new. Then I went to Plato, and got the following of my neverending list of CDs I want to have (because I'm a consumer whore, but mainly because I love music).
After this nice score, I went to the Gameshop—I'm considering getting House of the Dead III and two laser guns for my Xbox. After that, I went on with my quest to find some nice new basketball clothes/shoes. I visited every sports store there is, but with no luck. On my way home, I was about to pass by Streetz USA, where I used to get my streetwear.
I haven't been there for the longest time, but I decided to take a quick look inside, and I'm glad I did. I got the coolest pants! Ever! It's the kind that is buttoned from top to bottom, so you can put it on and take it off without the hassle of taking of your shoes and things. It's blue; it's Harlem Globetrotters; it's FUBU Platinum; it's... perfect.
After picking up some candy (hey, it's a party anyway) at grocery store, I went home. First I had to show my mother and grandmother my new hair and my new pants, but right after that I went online to see if anyone was up for basketball. As soon as my messenger had signed in, many messages popped up—people who were just wondering how I was doing, but also some people that wanted to play basketball—it appeared a lot of people would be playing at Central. I didn't feel like going there, but did so anyway, and again, am glad I did—there were dozens of people and the weather was great. I played a lot, intense, and good (you can tell from my shirt, which was full of sweat, sand, and blood).
All in all, today was good day. Better even; a very good day.
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