For the life of me, I cannot remember...
Rebecca hasn't barfed since June 17 -- over three weeks! And I haven't eaten out since June 30, which is probably a new record for me in abstaining from fast food.
We're having a meeting at work on Sunday morning, and today I asked Nice Manager about it. I'd assumed it would be about Back-to-School, since that season is our Christmas and is nearly upon us, but she said it was to address "the corruption that's been going on up here." And believe me, I pressed her for more details, but that was all she'd tell me. So I asked a different manager, but he just said, "Uh... it's about... stuff we need to improve upon," and changed the subject. I haven't been doing anything wrong, but I'm still worried. People at work have seemed tenser lately. Maybe it's my imagination, or maybe it's from getting ready for Back-to-School, which I've heard is going to be crazy-busy and stressful. Plus I've found out that I don't get vacation time until I've worked there for a year, which is disappointing. We'll just have to wait and see what happens on Sunday morning.
For some reason, writing about this has made me feel worse, not better. Isn't writing about something supposed to make it better? Sometimes I feel like I've spending my whole life going without, like that's supposed to make me a better person or something. Like the mayor in Chocolat, who was always fasting and abstaining from anything fun or enjoyable, only to go crazy and gorge himself on chocolate in the end. Maybe I need to better appreciate the things I do have, and stop feeling like I'm doing something wrong whenever I treat myself to something.
If I can, I'm taking Eva to the water park this weekend. It had better not rain.