I have a policeman friend who was blunt with me when I asked if we were getting the car back: “It’s gone. That thing is gone.”
So we bought a new car, though it’s not a done deal quite yet. This is what it looks like. If anyone out there needs help moving, you now know who to call. Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t say that. Oh, well. It’s all a part of making sure my life has meaning. I can move your boxes of crap!
liz | 11:27 AM | Uncategorized
Liz Spikol was born in Philadelphia sometime in the 20th century. She started writing about her experience as a person with mental illness in 1999, while employed at Philadelphia Weekly as the paper’s managing editor. Aside from serving as that paper’s web editor, music editor, staff writer, senior editor, executive editor and a host of other random roles that she couldn’t make up her mind about, she has also worked as a Spanish teacher, as a Certified Peer Specialist during Philly’s system-wide transformation and as a communications specialist for a prison reform organization. Currently, she works at the Mental Health Association of Southeastern Pennsylvania and writes book reviews for PW. This blog — named one of the Top 10 Bipolar Blogs of 2007 and 2008 by PsychCentral — is about medications, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, OCD, PTSD, SAD (and many other acronyms), mad pride, Big Pharma, celebrities, hospitals, stigma and the recovery movement. And other stuff.
I think I like the Subaru better. Thief may have done you a favor, sweetie. However, I know how violated you are feeling. I had a car stolen from me once. By an ex-husband! After the initial shock, I discovered I was much better off without either. Ta-da!
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