They tried to make me go to Rehab

So, here I am at work with 15 minutes left of my day, and I’m saying fuck it and am writing here. 

So F called me back today, with his same familiar tone of voice and style.  Ugh.  I hate him for being so cute. 

So.   Jan wants me to go to rehab.  I ask F if he agrees.   Independently of Jan.  He says yes.   Laughing and joking with me, but still, yes.

I guess I want to go.  I guess I do.  I have to figure out if I am going to turn in my damn paper for Surface Hydrology or just let it go.   I want to let it go, but don’t want a C+.   Fuck.  I guess this will be my last weekend free.  I guess.  

I have to tell my mom.  I don’t want to.  But I have to, because she has to take care of the Bai.  Maybe I can get someone else to take care of him?  Maybe Chris?  I have to call him.  I don’t want my mom to do it; I want to be as unattached as possible to her.   She will not be watching Bai. 

OK, 5:00, gotta go.