I had a few errands to run this morning, and decided to renew my son's bus pass first. So off I went to the corner Metro office, which would do well to install a bar and grill - a true money maker with the long lines.
I tried to figure out if I should wait or not, since I had a doctor's appointment in 40 minutes. Then a guy gets in line behind me and starts asking me about bus rates for the disabled. I turned around to come face to face with a young man with a sweet smile, who promptly informed me that he was just back from Iraq and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and psychosis. Ouch.
I smiled back and thanked him for his service, all the while wondering what these diagnoses had to do with Iraq and just what the heck had happened over there. We figured out the bus pass, and then he asked the question: "what is psychosis?"
Never missing an opportunity to say something truly stupid, I replied, "psychosis means crazy. You ought to be a lot of fun on the bus."
Surprisingly, we both laughed at that. When I got home, I looked up psychosis. I probably should have said, with a big smile, that it's a "disorder in which reality testing is grossly impaired."
Actually, I prefer crazy. It's sounds truer to my life.