Quiet desperation
is sort of what I'm feeling these days. I'm having a lot of trouble with my OCD and we're trying to treat it but so far we've made only slight progress. I find this really depressing and am frustrated. Sometimes I feel real despair. Other times, though I enjoy my life and savor the good things--it's just that those events are kind of rare right now.

I usually love autumn, the activities of the trees and birds, the crescendo that finally leads to the dull landscape of November. Then I like November, you can see way into the forest and realize that you've missed being able to do that. The deer are everywhere this year, which is cheering in ways. There are 2 girls hanging around Fred's road and they're getting pretty bold. The deer around my house are a little shier but they come pretty close to the house, based on the tracks they leave. Looks as if one of them is pretty big.

I went out for dinner with Fred, Linda and Erdvilas last night and it just didn't turn out well. Food was fine, conversation all right but at the end of the evening something happened that just bothered me a whole lot and I got cross. I don't like having that reaction, I want to be one of those people who goes with the flow more. When you're obsessive, though, these things just stick in your mind and you can't get rid of them. Last night I swore I would never repeat the restaurant experience with that group. This morning I feel more charitable, but still rankled. I'll get over it: I have to, these people are good friends whom I cherish.

Don't know what the weekend holds for me. Linda & Erdvilas went to the boat house yesterday to retrieve something of theirs left after the party. They found napkins scattered all over and a roll of paper towel unraveled all over the porch, and very kindly cleaned it all up. Even boxed up all my liquor and took it to the safety of Linda's porch. They couldn't believe I would leave all those bottles unattended and unlocked. Well that's how trusting I am. Meanwhile someone smashed the cinder block I had placed as a step for Liza to get up on the rock we often picnic on next to the boat house. What is wrong with people? Why would someone do that?

I seem to be having a running argument with invisible truckers who insist in turning around in my driveway, rutting it up. I put a sawhorse in the middle of it but last night the sawhorse had been moved and there were fresh tracks. Again--what's wrong with people? I nailed a POSTED sign to the sawhorse and felt like a jerk. Obsession is just awful.

Lots of catching up work today. I really need to put together a book order but I don't even feel like doing that. How pathetic is it when you'd rather catalog RL Stevenson's works than order brand new, interesting books?