Deep and meaningful.

I haven’t written anything deep and meaningful lately.

So:

One of the nurses at the nursing home I used to work at in SD had anorexia. That is, she had had anorexia, and she still had it, but she had it under control.

Except she’d get upset if you said she was too skinny, or told her to eat, or asked her one too many times if she wanted cake. (We all knew this; sometimes the visitors didn’t.)

One night (this was when I worked nights), she was eating popcorn. Just quietly eating it: it was the first time I’d actually seen her eat. She saw me look at her, and told me that it was okay to eat, as long as she could eat what she wanted, when she wanted, and didn’t have to finish it if she didn’t feel like it.

I’m shy. I feel the same way about being around people as she did about food. I don’t mind being around people as long as I can be around whom I want, as long as I want, when I want, and I can leave if I don’t feel like staying.