Beginning to notice a pattern: I get depressed after being with or near my son. After I have been away from him for a while, I begin to feel better. Not blaming him for my feelings, but I do think he has figured out exactly how to hurt me and is now flipping switches and pushing buttons and enjoying the show. And he's so good at it. I feel like shit, like curling up in a ball and crying all day long. Bleh.

Probably should work with the clay; that always seems to help. And right about then, he'll come home with some new remark to stab me with. I would really rather be slapped around.

Anyway, the pottery is *still* pinging!