I had to see Willa Cotton today, I had had a really boring day at school, even more boring than usual – as if I could ever have conceived that was possible. Anyway, I had to get the bus to Willa’s place, mum said that she’d pick me up but she couldn’t take me there because she was working. She acted as if I should be grateful for the lift home instead of complaining about having to get there on my own. I couldn’t understand why I should be grateful for anything to do with being forced to visit these idiots all the time. Mum was scandalised when I said this, she said I should be grateful that she worried enough about me to organise some help for me. I am not grateful that I have a mother who has no conception of what goes on in my head and apart from that, I couldn’t understand why she was scandalised – she’s heard me moan about all of them, Sally, Samuel and now Willa – so why she’s surprised is anyone’s guess. Another episode of my mouth talking and her ears closing.
Anyway, Willa was actually alright – we just chatted about stuff really, she didn’t patronise me or act like a therapist, or anything like that, she didn’t even try and get me to talk about stuff, she just asked how I was getting on and laughed at some of the stuff I said – which wasn’t particularly witty. It was weird because the time went really quickly and then it was time to go. I didn’t feel as if she’d ripped information out of me that I didn’t want to give, I used to feel that with Samuel and Sally, it was like being invaded. Also, she talked about herself too, so it was actually a conversation. She’s not married, she lives on her own, she likes paintings and goes to the galleries quite a lot and she does her own painting, which I like doing too, so we spoke about that a bit. She wasn’t wearing a caftan, but she was wearing a long skirt and lots of silver jewellery – an ex-hippy gone professional.