I’m becoming dotty in my dotage. I’ve known and talked about having an appointment this morning with the HRA shrink to qualify for some kind of city housing. I’m secretly sure I’m not going to get it because I never get these sorts of thing but I’m willing to go through the motions. But today I forgot.
I was thinking about who else I might contact regarding HRA’s punitive position that I shouldn’t be allowed an apartment larger than a studio. I was thinking about the painting. I was thinking about what I wanted for lunch. I was thinking about spending the afternoon playing Grand Theft Auto. What I wasn’t thinking about was the HRA shrink.
So I get there two hours late, she calls my number, she says, “Your appointment was for 9:30.” “That’s correct. I’m sorry I’m late. I just forgot.” “I’ve made you another appointment for the third at 11.” “Alright, then.” And I turned around and walked out. I guess Paul Mall is right. I do have a breathtaking sense of entitlement. I do wish he were still around to enjoy his little victory.
But she has a nose ring, for god’s sake.