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Wednesday, June 30, 2004

An interesting couple of days.

Firstly, I found out on Monday that everything should be smooth sailing for the transfer from Hong Kong of the money that Mum wants to give me, to help Matt and I buy a house, and to help me go back to college. (Clumsy sentence, I know; bite me.) There are no limitations or taxes that I need to worry about, according to our new financial advisor, Chris Hanshaw at Morgan Stanley.

Chris also came up with some good ideas about how to invest the money. The best idea I have heard is to buy a house in Harrisburg outright, mortgage it, and invest the money. Since interest rates are so rock-bottom at the moment, I'd stand to earn a lot more in investments than I would lose in interest on the mortgage. In August, we'll be talking all this over in more detail.

About fifteen minutes after learning this, Matt called with the news that he was quitting his job. Working with Garth had become just too impossible. These pieces of news complement each other perfectly, and I was most pleased.

Today, the rollercoaster dove downward somewhat. I called Mum in Australia this morning to tell her of our plans, and after about five minutes of talking, she started fervently discussing God and religion. The terms "salvation" and "holy war" were bandied about, and at one point she seemed to be suggesting that she was going to stop the holy war herself, singlehandedly. Everything she said leads me to believe that she is probably on the verge of another bipolar episode.

I don't know what to do. I'm worried about her. I spoke to Dad briefly, but he seemed to think she was OK, although he did mention that she had been "excited" since my last phone call.

That would be the phone call in which I informed her I was going back to college.

If I do something that makes my mother too happy or proud, she winds up in a psychiatric ward. It's happened again and again and again. I'm not blaming myself, or feeling guilty about it. I'm just frustrated. And I'm sad, for her and - truth be told - quite a bit for myself as well. Ah, self-pity, my favorite emotion. I particularly enjoy the aftertaste of self-disgust it commonly generates.

Practically, I'm worried about the money, of course. With the transfer due to happen in late August, there are two considerations:
1. If she's this high now, in the middle of winter, how high will she be just before spring?
2. If she's this high, can she make this decision? Will it come back to bite me in the arse in six months' time, when she reveals she never wanted to give me the money, and was too manic to know what she was doing?

I know the discussion about the transfer has been ongoing for months, and she wasn't at all manic when she first suggested it, but I'm worried.

Last night I earned myself another speeding ticket. For some reason, I couldn't stop crying after I was booked. Kept it up for 45 minutes. Maybe it's because I saw Fahrenheit 9/11 just beforehand. Maybe it was the stress of the HACC placement exam earlier in the day (can't tell how I did - have to call them in a minute). Maybe it was a borg-link premonition about Mum's state of mind. Maybe there's just too much.

I don't know what to do.
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