Here I am, still in Shawshank. No, no, I kid.
Today I'm mostly upset with the fact that I was supposed to go home, as per my doctor. But the weekend psychiatrist on duty never got around to seeing me and finalizing my paperwork today, even though I have been bugging the nursing staff about it since 9 this morning.
I thought I'd think positively and have my husband and daughters come down around 3, and maybe by the time they got here I'd be ready to go. No such dice. Looks like I'll probably be here till Monday, with my contraband iPod to keep me company.
The most frustrating part is that I actually feel pretty okay; I don't feel the need to be put away for safety reasons. And the staff here does next to nothing on weekends, as far as group therapy and entertainment go, so it's not like I'm getting lots of benefit there.
So, in a nutshell, I feel safe enough to leave, am bored out of my mind, and had to peel a shrieking five-year-old off my leg when she left.
Oh, holy hell...someone just started playing "Kumbaya" on an acoustic guitar and singing. I think I should have kept my mouth about the entertainment. Is 6:30 too early to go to bed?