I signed up for a psychiatric study for which I met all the criteria in the little ad.  It was in one of the free papers, so probably a lot of people auditioned for it.  I apparently didn’t make the cut, since after a brutally honest and grueling three-hour evaluation two weeks ago, the guy still hasn’t called me back.  I suppose a lot of crazy people read those free rags.  Maybe it’s all relative.

Somehow after admitting to another human being on this planet all of my longstanding phobias and delusions, stuff that Jack doesn’t even know about, I feel lighter and more free.  The world didn’t end.  I didn’t even cry.  Plus, it was prorated, so I should be getting a few dollars in the mail too.