My daughters are playing with some purses that fit into each other. I exclaim, "See how I got these for you and you are enjoying them so much." Dovre frowns and complains that it's not fun because all I ever get them are used or broken or cheap. I feel angry and embarrassed as I look around and see a few wooden broken toys in a heap. I feel guilty. Then I move away and go talk to a woman who is talking to her counselor. She instructs me to place my hand on her debit card hump which is a lumpy skin patch on her left shoulder. She tells me it is there so that when people touch it, she will experience pain. The counselor who is chopping up something on a lap board with a razor blade looks up and says happily to her, "I like the way you handled that. How creative you are." I am filled with jealousy because he is noticing her and ignoring me!