Thursday, August 04, 2005

A very strange reason that I love my mom

I'm recalling an all-too personal conversation I had with my mom while in Denver that made me realize how much I like her.

It involves a conversation about antidepressants. I admitted to her that I was thinking of asking my doctor for something to help get me over this slump I've been in lately. And first of all, she didn't blink an eye about that. In fact she offered advice for how to do it. (Imagine now my mom with a cigarette in one hand and a V-8 in the other) "You go in there, you say look here pal, there've been a lot of nights lately at home alone watching TV and not going out and I just need some damned happy pills."

First of all, I enjoy that my mom would say to her doctor, "Look here pal..." (and anyone who knows my mom knows that's EXACTLY what she would say) and secondly I love that she offered advice about how to ask for what she refers to as "happy pills" without asking me any awkward questions.

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