An Apple a Day....It's that time of year when people flock to apple orchards. They'll say it's for the apples, but don't be fooled--they are only going there to snarf up a dozen or so of those tasty donuts. (I asked the wife what kind of donuts those exactly are that they sell at the orchard--she said, "DELICIOUS." Told ya.) Seeing as the clients I work with like donuts as much as any other person on the planet, it seems only right that they, too get to experience the droves of donut-eating fools at the orchards across the nation. However....going with these fine clients is a little different than going with the wife....

How can this be, you ask?

Well, let's just say a trip to the apple orchard with the chronically mentally ill involves a lot of smoking. The trip literally goes like this:

(1) Stand in front of van, smoke two cigarettes.
(2) Everyone loads into the van. One pops back out and smokes another cigarette.
(3) Everyone finally in the van.
(4) Chase everyone into the van. Refuse to let anyone get out and smoke again. Drive to orchard.
(5) Arrive at orchard. Get out of van and smoke. Stand in the parking lot, smoking.
(6) Walk to Orchard entrance, see a sign indicating there is no smoking at the Orchard. Walk back to the parking lot and smoke another cigarette.
(7) Walk back to Orchard. Stand in line, get a half dozen donuts. Walk back to van with donuts in hand.
(8) Smoke cigarettes and eat donuts.
(9) Get in van, as there is no point going back to see apples, farm animals, apple trees, pumpkins or other fall items.
(10) Get back out of van to smoke one more time.
(11) Return home with an empty bag of donuts and an empty pack of cigarettes.

It took us longer to get to the orchard than it did to actually be at the orchard.

This, of course, is not to say everyone with mental illness smokes (or, that everyone with mental illness ignores the various delights of apple orchards). It is just to say that there seems to be a pattern with those with schizophrenia to smoke ridiculous amounts of cigarettes in a day. In fact, I've seen scientific data that suggests 90% of those diagnosed with schizophrenia smoke. (I don't profess to know why that is or what comes first--the MI or the smoking, or if there is any other correlation besides boredom, but I do know first hand that the data seems correct.)

I have not seen any data suggesting that those with schizophrenia don't like apples.

Me? I didn't eat any donuts and I didn't smoke, so I guess that's good. I unfortunately had stuffed pizza for lunch before going to the orchard, which did NOTHING for my pleurisy pounds or my cholesterol level. While an apple would have been healthier, it would not have been as tasty as a stuffed pizza. I guess Lucy Lawless will just have to accept me with my Pleurisy and pizza pounds.

Speaking of Lucy, it's ONE WEEK, one short week until the convention. ONE WEEK! I hyperventilate just thinking about it. I've still got half of season six to watch, but I am confident I will make it by the time Argo Warrior Princess and I head to the Mecca of the Xenaverse convention. Well, I'll make it as long as I do nothing else but work, sleep and watch videos. (And, walk the dogs. I always have to walk the dogs.) Maybe I should take up smoking and donut-eating as means of achieving this task. Throw in some Starbucks and I think I'd have a plan. No more pizza, tho--I had horrible indigestion after that one. I am SO not used to eating real cheese (they don't make soy cheese stuffed pizza) and I'm not used to eating that much of anything in one sitting.

Just so you know, I hold my Golden Ticket every day. I'd carry it around and show everyone, but being the spaz that I am, I'm afraid I'd lose it and then I'd be suicidal. I'd sleep with it but I drool, so I don't want a drool-covered ticket to take to the convention. It just sits on the kitchen table, smiling at me.

Is this a great life or what?