We prefer "mentally impaired"

Today I went to the psychiatrist. On my way into the office, I noticed a ton of caterpillars on the concrete in front of the door. I felt bad for them -- they were nowhere near grass or trees and surely burning up on the hot concrete. They reminded me of when I was little and played with ones just like them. Cute little fuzzy buggers.

So when I leave the office, I decide that they need to be saved. So I grab a piece of paper an begin gathering them up. Most were already dead, two had already begun cocooning to the ground but the others I grabbed up to take to the woods. It took a while to gather them up -- mostly due to the fact that I was scared when they moved to grab my finger and would jerk back every time. I should also note here that I was talking to them.

So there I am - outside of the psychiatrists office - crawling on the ground picking up things and telling them I was just trying to help. Alas, someone is cautiously approaching me.

"What are you picking up there?"

"Caterpillars." I hold them up for her to see.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh" -- the knowing oh of someone talking to a child. Oh my god she thought I was retarded. I must explain:

"It's hot out here and they're dying on the concrete -- see" I point to a few who had already died.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh" -- fuck me, must say more:

"They can't be butterflies here." ... I doubt this eloquent sentence convinced her of my intelligence.

And then she walked away.

So yeah, there's one more person in the world who thinks I'm mentally disabled. My psychiatrist saw me doing this but didn't say anything. I bet she made a note to ask me about it next month. Fuck me. I WAS SAVING THE CATERPILLARS.

I took them to the woods and put them in a nice shady spot under a tree. Live on little butterflies!