Fourth neurofeedback session. I didn’t do too well on the left side. This may be at least partly because I had to deal with sociopathic drivers on the way, including Mr. Gridlock who kept me from doing a left on Newport from 19th. I did have the great pleasure of seeing the Angel of the Lord in the person of the Costa Mesa PD catch him doing this and pull him over.
The right side went a lot better, and she seemed to think I was “looking good” in terms of various sine waves I don’t understand well. It’s pretty exhausting work, although it doesn’t seem so at the time. Afterwards I need to be a zombie for a while, so I go to D’s. I could go to Alta which is right across the street, but I don’t.
At D’s post phrenology. Sitting next to A. at the bar, who is sitting next to a talkative hottie. I assume he’s warming up to give her the pitch, although she’s mentioned her boyfriend three times.
She’s a charming and intelligent egotist. I think I’m getting better at filtering egotists even when they’re cute, because after going back and forth with her a few times I decided not to keep going with the conversation; there’s no win here.
Be My Blog 
Braaaains
Is the zombie feeling anything like the feeling when you have a hardcore therapy session — that sort of wrung-out feeling, as if you’ve been lifting heavy weights, only with your emotions? And then you have to do your post-therapy ritual, whatever that is, to feel like you have a grip on things again? Because I know that one, all right.
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Re: Braaaains
Not quite. It’s somewhere between that, the way you feel right after a movie, and a spacy and calm floaty sensation.
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