Had a 2x latte again this morning. It was the only way to congeal my post-OC trip reality into a shape that I could comprehend. This morning was an otherwise impenetrable puddle of dull reflexes, forgetfulness, and panic--meaning that I was a screaming grouchy freak and beware!
One has to feel for Seymour, who, in his desire for a happy household expends great effort to be as helpful as he can, yet "doesn't always get to keep his eyebrows."
But oh, the sweet patience and tolerance that descend in my caffeinated state! Suddenly Leelo's incessant vocalizations and nutterliness (he is at the crappy low point in one of his behavioral cycles) didn't matter so much, didn't make me long for some sort of intra-vehicular sound shield or off switch.
Instead I could focus on just being with him, on taking the few minutes that matter during transitions to get his eye contact, to give him physical reassurance that despite the overwhelming situations I constantly expose him to, he is absolutely loved, and can count on me to be his anchor.
Maybe if I could achieve this state all the time, then he would Recover and be a Real Boy. Right.