Please let us know the taste and quality of the pre-stuffed, because I may need to get one later this winter.

BTW I've seen the stuffing include onions (fairly common); celery (less common): and a mixture of onions, celery, and carrots (only one cook that I know of).  Carrots do add color to an otherwise tan meal.

I''ve always liked the meat/potato ratio to be 50/50 or less--more like 35/65.

What do they charge for a prestuffed?.....if you don't mind my asking.

11/18/2016

 The mood is irritable.

 I'm already developing problems. To restate; the VA therapist I've been seeing for the last 3.5 years is being reassigned to an administrative position. So he won't be seeing patients anymore. And I may, or may not be, reassigned to the only remaining therapist.

 Did I mention they were both always double-booked?

 They have no plans to hire another therapist. I have absolutely no idea if I'll even be scheduled. No clue what's going to happen to myself and others like me. This is distressing. Therapy is one of those things that help me deal with the world. It's effective and doesn't involve mind-altering medication.


 It's as good as it gets. So why stop doing it?

 My therapist stated his opinion...and he stressed opinion; It isn't a promotion. There's no additional money. The position didn't even exist before. He said the new director doesn't look at therapy as “real medicine”.


 Huh.

 Ask anyone who knows me and they will tell you that I usually come in from therapy in a relaxed, or at least upbeat, mood. And I'll become slowly more agitated between sessions until I become annoying on Wednesday afternoon. The cycle is Thursday 8am, every two weeks.

 It's been four weeks since my last session.

 It's two more weeks until my next session. This session will be the last one with my current therapist. Then it's another five weeks before my first appointment with my new therapist...if she's actually my therapist.

 So I'm agitated. Irritable. And becoming forgetful.

 There have been sleep-walking episodes. The kind that leave me in pain because I engaged in some sort of activity....what activity is anyone's guess. The one last night was severe enough that I kept waking up somewhere else in the house over and over again. I remember the alarm going off at five. I remember walking face-first into a door frame. Then it was nine-thirty.

 Scrambled for the phone, called my supervisor, blurted out a sentence that made no sense at all. “Are you coming in?” he asked. “Uh—uh—yes, coming in.”

 My head started spinning again so I had to lay there for an hour or so until I could engage in any complex tasks.

 So I was late going in. I did get to get a hot lunch on the way there...haven't had one of those in months, so there's one up-side. I was mostly quiet and got on with my work. Wasn't thrilled about talking to anyone so I stuck with the paperwork. 

 So I'm examining my feelings about all of this. This is the sort of thing I would have discussed with my therapist.

 I'm angry, certainly. I mean this whole thing is colored with contempt. I'm not a big fan of determining someone else's motivations without any first-hand experience but based on why my therapist said, the new director thinks therapy is a waste and intends to stop treating most of the current patients.

 I mean, this isn't voo-doo, it's medicine. It works. And you intend to simply stop?

 So, yes, angry.

 Worried, surely. It took three years to get where I am with my current therapist. I'm not inclined to simply walk in to an appointment with a new therapist and just start chatting away. I never warm up to people right away and my luck with other therapists up to this point had been nothing but bad.

 I'm aware that my emotions are erratic but knowing only helps a little. Usually it just means I realize I'm being an ass sooner. Rarely stops it beforehand.

 Baffled? Oh, yes. This makes no effing sense at all and that, above all other things, is causing no end of distress. There are records. Data. Information available that shows conclusively therapy is an effective form of treatment.

 Honestly, if I had to tell you why therapy works I wouldn't be able to. It's nebulous. It's a massive pattern of intricate detail. Something you must experience to understand. That doesn't mean this is psuedo-science.

 I guess it's just the lack of empathy that is giving me the most difficulty.

 It's there, it's obvious.

  Thanks for listening.

I think the place to start is with Congressman Scott Perry's office.  
He is a veteran.
717-600-1919
 

11/23/2016

 The mood is vacillating wildly.

 Swinging between dark depression and near-manic highs. This tends to cause some stress. I've had a lifetime of experience dealing with strange, inappropriate emotional states. I will, eventually, latch on to the fact that my behavior has become...odd.

 Or different. Call it what you will.

 Wow. So much is going on. I ran into an old friend, Rick Skeen, a few weeks ago and we're now new friends. Of course, things are somewhat different than they were 30 years ago but the differences are what seems to make a difference...if that makes any sense.

 Get this. I went to one of those members-only places for dinner. Rick is a member so he got me in. There were also two women. Kim who Rick shares a house with (platonic) and Rick's girlfriend Denise.

 I went to a place called The Victory Athletic Association. For those of you who don't live in PA, we still have a bureaucracy that was established nearly 100 years ago because of Prohibition called the Liquor Control Board, or LCB.

 Prohibition ended but the LCB didn't. In PA, the LCB makes both you and the person selling to you jump through hoops in order to buy alcohol. They limit everything related to alcohol. What you can buy, where you can buy, how much you can buy...it just goes on and on.

 Eventually, some smart cookie looked into the laws and discovered you can operate a bar completely unregulated if it's called either an Association or a Club. This is a gross oversimplification but I'm not inclined to type out hundreds of pages of legalese.

 So the state is riddled with places called The Veterans Political Association or The Victory Athletic Association...that kind of thing. When I was a kid, I found out my grandfather was a member of The 12th Ward Democratic Club. My grandpa was in politics! I was so impressed and so proud.

 It was years later that I found out it was just another one of those unregulated bars. You'd have to see one to truly understand. It's just so bizarre.

 Anyway, had dinner with Rick and Kim and Denise The women were a kick. They talked about anything and everything. My cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. I actually participated. With people I really didn't know.

 And I was comfortable with it. It was a good time. Rick sponsored me and I coughed up 100 bucks to join. Hey, they have pool tables and dartboards, of course I'm going to join...and food. Although the food was somewhat bland.

 I enjoyed myself even with the underlying depression. That's something fine indeed.

 I'm not sure everyone does this but I really do look around and consider everything I have to be thankful for. Although I don't like the term 'thankful'. I mean, who am I thanking? I am what I am by my own hand so should I be thanking myself?

 Okay got off on a tear there.

 So lets just call it 'grateful', okay?

 I have a job that I love that pays well. I have a house that's quirky but absolutely the best place I've ever rented. I have not one, but three Wendy's. Each of them love me in their own way and I love them back in mine. I have a budding social life with new friends. I'm safe and secure and I'm not alone.

 And I am grateful.

 To whatever fates aligned to allow these things to occur.

 I am grateful.

 Thanks for listening.