Angie's mother called me today. She was very polite and as rushed as ever. She does all of the talking, and will not let me say much more than hello. I am always reminded of a peacock crying "Lookee me! Lookee me!" when she talks, because she only thinks of herself. Well, okay, I don't know very many people who aren't thinking of themselves all the time.

She had a mission as always. She had to tell me that Angie could not come for a few days, and I was not to expect her until next week. And if she showed up on my doorstep, I was not to let her in, but send her straight home.

I get this phone call once a month. I could almost set her cycle on it. Angie usually shows up the next day, and we make brownies together.

I don't know though. She sounded more serious, more harried than usual. I managed to ask if everything was okay over there. I think I pushed a button and the guts fell out. She told me all about her job and her husband and her ex-husband and how she was going out of her mind. I did not tell her it's okay to go out of your mind for a while. It's very relaxing and the white-coats take care of everything. But I was tempted!

Then she started talking about Angie and how sick Angie was.

Angie isn't sick. She is fine. That's not right. She shouldn't project her anxiety onto Angie. That's not fair to Angie.

When I got off the phone I baked 3 cakes and a pie. Chocolate, carrot, banana, and boston cream.

Frank thought it meant I was happy, and was pleased. Silly man. I hope Angie shows up. I have the brownie supplies set out on the counter already.
  ¶ 6:01 PM