The old realtor, with two days left in his contract, may have sold our house. Bastard. I'd almost rather wait a few more days just so I could give the commission to the other realtor who actually did more work for us in two days than the other guy did in ten months. In any case, if things work out, I'm grateful to finally have this problem off my plate, which is already overflowing.
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My parents drove out to the rehabilitation centre yesterday afternoon to talk with the director of the centre. The director says that C is perpetually lying about having a multitude of medical conditions all requiring OxyContin and using this as her reason for not being able to stop taking the drug. She says C shows no real interest in recovery at all and is just using the rehab centre for free room and board. Basically, it sounds like she's going to be kicked out soon and then will be homeless. The director also told my parents that C has made several threats about planning to come to my house and kidnapping Little J. Scary. We are going to have to work to do some things to prepare and protect her, which is difficult because she loves her mother and would probably willingly go with her now even knowing that her mother will return her to the life she had before. In some ways she liked that life because she was allowed to eat potato chips for every meal, never go to school, and have no rules.
The other night Little J told me that she thinks she has the flu because she always has butterflies in her stomach. I asked her how long they'd been there and she figured out for nearly a year. I tried to explain to her about anxiety... but I don't think she believed me. She'd believe me if she could feel the butterflies that have been wreaking havoc in my belly lately.
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