Mom was pretty well done cleaning and decorating by the time we got home. My fiber optic tree makes my apartment look very Christmas-like. There is also a ceramic tree in my bedroom. The tree has got to be over twenty years old. The lights are old pieces from a vintage children's game called Lite Brite. Mom was going to throw the tree out, but I spoke up. I don't know why I love that tree so much. I suppose it reminds me of my childhood and home. Both give me the warm fuzzes. Mom didn't through anything out (other than an ancient container of Metamucil that I didn't get too torn up over). I suggested we sift through my junk. We got rid of a full garbage bag worth of junk, which felt empowering. We also moved my couch chair and now my living room looks more sitting friendly. Mom made me a huge salad with carrots, pecans and chicken.
We had a heart-to-heart talk. My parents are concerned that I'm not looking after my health. While I can appreciate their concern given my history of eating issues, I am OK. I do feel unproductive because I don't have a real job. The Observer is an excellent role model for me. He works every day. I need a purpose. In tears, I told them my feelings. They hugged me and said I need to look after myself. I do eat, but I'm afraid of getting fat. Both Mom and Dad gave me big warm hugs. Our talk was rough, but the hugs were special.
I watched the English movie called Happy-Go Lucky. It's about Poppy, a thirty year-old kind hearted free spririt who everyone falls in love with. The movie was cute. It reminded me of Bridgett Jones Diary. It's a feel good flick.
Later, in bed, I watched the old Hallmark movie The Christmas Shoes. Mom LOVES it, so I've seen the movie many times. It's sad, but I watch it because it reminds me of Mom...It's a bit like how the Christmas tree made of Lite Brite bits reminds me of home. Some things hold sweet memories, so why not surround ourselves with them whenever we can? Maybe the more I do, the happier I'll become.