The sweetest thing on earth just happened to me! I was coming home after working a double shift, because this girl they just hired didn't show up for her shift. Whatever.  Anyway, I got home, and right in front of the door to my building was a mew-ing box--lots of little mews.  So I opened the top, and four hella adorable furry little faces looked up at me!  Oh-my-god they are so cute!!!  So I looked around, and nobody seemed to know anything about them, including all my neighbors (the ones who had lights on--I didn't want to bother sleeping ones). So I took them up to my apt and gave them a little tuna and some water and sat and watched them for a long time. I didn't want to freak them out, so I just left them in the box, and didn't try to pet them. I really, really wanted to, though. One is gray and white striped, and one is mostly white with a little black on it's nose and tail and chest, and one is mostly black with random patches of white and one is all black with white paws. They pile up on top of each other to sleep, or they play with each other--batting at one another with their tiny paws.  I googled taking care of kittens and found out some useful stuff. I'm going to leave them in the box in the bathroom with the door closed for tonight so they don't get out and get lost behind the refrigerator or something. I wish I could just take them into bed with me and cuddle with their warm, furry little purring bodies, but I'm afraid I'd roll on them and squish them, or knock them off the bed or something. 

Rochelle called in sick today. I drove by her house on my way home--lots of lights on, especially for this late, but I couldn't see her. Her car was there, though, so I guess she was too. I really, really wanted to knock on her door to see if she was ok, but what would I say? I'd just be a total dork.

Therapy tomorrow. Don't know what to talk about. Am I supposed to know ahead of time? I hate sitting down and I look at her and she looks at me and I want to hide, but she's still there looking at me, and I can't think of anything to say. That's why I like to have something ready ahead of time. But I can't think of anything now. I hope I do before tomorrow night, because I don't want to have to go through that sketchy looking at each other thing. If I can't think of anything, does that mean I'm done with therapy? I wonder how I'll know when I'm done. I wonder how long it takes. Why didn't I ask her all these questions in the beginning when I felt like I was allowed to ask questions? Damn, I fucked that one up!