Tangled Green Thoughts

I'm rich [journal] I went to work at the psychological rehabilitation place again. What this meant:

1. Finished reading my novel "Girlfriend in a Coma" for two hours.
2. Ate lunch for one hour (ate their cookies and drank their coffee too).
3. Looked out the window for 30 minutes.
4. Rested my head on my palm for 30 minutes.
5. Read some reports (so I would know how to write the reports) for 3 hours although it really only took me 1 hour. The rest of the time I looked through the words, read it upside down, coloured in the words darker with pencil and then erased the pencil.

It turned out that the one client I was going to ask questions to didn't show up. At the end of the day they apologized for having nothing for me to do and then wrote me a 200 dollars check (three hours last time, seven hours this time) with an apologetic expression.

The residing psychologist, a friendly new-age therapy type, talked to me today. He came into my room to grab his lunch, a vegetarian curry. He ate with his fingers and kept repeating how his wife did a great job, only he called her by name as if I knew her "Wow, ******* did a great job today. It tastes wonderful." He said this again and again, each time with a goofy grin and sucking his fingers clean of curry. The funny thing, being how intelligent he was (telling me the ingredient in curry that stains your fingers and how dill is good for your digestive tract) is he didn't know how to work the microwave. Apparently he doesn't own a microwave, a computer or a CD player. He asked if I was the computer expert. I'm completely a computer newbie, but compared to him, sure, I'm Joe Gates. Well, I hope I'm good for something, because when they start talking science and more specifically psychological terms I feel way out of my league and the heart-racing part of it is, they assume I know a lot of the jargon they use. I mean, everything they say does sound familiar, but my apathy at McMaster didn't allow any of it to stay with me. But is intelligence just knowing things, studying and learning things? Or are their other types of intelligence (and I'm not talking about EQ).

I won't be working again until their new biofeedback machine comes in (they are going to show me how to work it). It's like a giant jukebox that's hooked up to you via wires and electrodes. I guess I can fulfill my dream of becoming a disc-jockey after all, even if it will be, something along the lines of, the sounds of ocean waves, birds chirping and people singing "Cumbayah."