Sunday, March 26, 2017

March 26, 2017

Dear Diary,

Dr. Morell feels that it's time for me to work on be constructive, and I suspect he's right, so this week, I had Bessie go up into the attic and retrieve my knitting basket.  I'd go up there myself, but I hate crawling around with the rats my dust allergies would simply blow up if I did.  Besides, Bessie feels at home up there.  She lived there for the first six months while we were testing her out since she was still on parole and the gun was still missing.

It took her an hour or so, but when she came down, Bessie was covered with dust and rat shit. I was so happy we can pay people to do that kind of work when she handed me the knitting basket.  All my memories came rushing back to me.  Like the time I knitted little booties for Chel when she was just a little baby.  Not too many people know this, but Chel was born with "webbed toes" (wink, wink) that were all fused together.  Well, given the whole story, (wink, wink) we thought it was a pretty funny joke, so we had her wear the booties until the surgery.

Now she has ten separate toes, but she still doesn't swim very well.  Sinks like a rock.

Bessie handed me the knitting needles and advised me, "Now, don't be going around and jabbing people's eyeballs out or anything," which I thought was very sweet of her.  She's so kind.  I know she looks at me as a role model, so I have to stay on my meds behave like the person she admires.  I wish the peasants more people could see how non-white Negroes and Mexicans people get along with me, especially when I have to sign off on their parole reports.  I'm so misunderstood.

Dr. Morell whispered something to Bessie about keeping the needles within view at all times because technically, they qualify as "sharp objects," and ever since the night of the you-know-what I'm supposed to be under observation.  But that's why I like Dr. Morell.  He's aggressive and believes in pushing me to higher levels.  That's why instead of ten milligrams of Lorazepam, he has me on twenty!  He says I'm a doer and that next week, we may even up the Xanax!

So now I've started on the knitting and pearling but I'm still not sure what I'm actually making.  It's either a shawl or a handbag.  Maybe a scarf.  All I've got is pink yarn, so if nothing else, I suppose I could turn it upside down, have Bessie sew the seams together and make it into one of those vagina hats with the floppy corners.  Hey, I could give it to Chel for Christmas!  It might be a really good look for here.  Could make her appear more intelligent.  Maybe.

Is it knit one, pearl two? Or knit one, stab John Podesta in the eyes?

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