"Where to begin? Let's start with the end, this black and white photo don't capture the skin."

What a day! I'm exhausted. I had a very important meeting with my lawyer to discuss some papers that the current probate judge had finally read and signed, months after I submitted my request. Something very straightforward. As it happens, the judge wrote a couple of lines in a corner of the very official documents I had sent her, in pen, in loopy handwriting that took me a few minutes to decipher. This, instead of, you know, using a computer, or even a typewriter. And when I did decipher what she had written, it contradicted everything I had asked. To put it simply, I asked her to approve A. She wrote "I read and approve A. Do B." What the frickity frack. When my lawyer realized what was happening, he told me he'd have to talk to her in person and make sure she reads what she's signing, and that he'll call me when he does.

I can't believe I was nervous about this meeting. I've been mom's tutor for almost ten years, that's three probate judges, and they were all bloody incompetent. If I had been as slow and mindless as them when I was in uni, I would have never passed a single exam, and this is their bloody job. I'm not asking for the moon, I just wish they'd read what they're signing, and maybe use a computer while they're at it.

When I came back, I opened the door to the main staircase (I live on the first floor of a small condo), and I stopped dead on my tracks. A new cleaning lady came by when I was out, and she used chlorine to wash the stairs. Which for the past 17 years has been the most triggering thing ever for me. The smell hit my brain, I held my breath, closed my eyes, and waited for the inevitable attack. A few seconds passed, nothing happened, and I slowly realized I was feeling fine.

It turns out while I wasn't looking my brain grew out of one of the most incapacitating triggers I've ever had. I'm still very confused here. Can't wait to tell my therapist!