I’ve been meaning to get into the Big Family Dynamics discussion with my therapist, but we keep getting sidetracked by current issues. Today I mentioned that to her and said, “But somehow I think tonight’s hour-long discussion of my insecurities and relationship issues probably gave you some useful information about my family history.”
And her response was, “Oh, yeah. Any time we talk about your relationships, we’re talkin’ about your dad.”
…Goddammit. 🙄
First OkCupid message:
“Hey dear how are you I really like your picture so beautiful let me know if you want to talk btw I like your eyes so gorgeous have I great week”
You guys. Send help.
Apparently it takes me 5 years and 3 apartments to finally ovary up and get rid of my Ex Box.
I’d gotten rid of other things incrementally, but this was the greeting cards, and I am a sucker for a greeting card.
I’m still crying, but it’s done.
I am woman. Roar, etc.
*sniff* Shut up.
“Damn, I feel so much more human today than I did yesterday. What the hell happened?”
“Well, you stayed in bed for 2 days straight and then took your ADD meds with coffee.”
I’m not recommending this as a life choice, but…I mean, I DO feel better…
I’m shopping online for an ugly sweater for an office party, and came across this dress. It lives in the Target juniors’ department, and…seems to indicate that the wearer’s loins are burning…?
Bold choice, Target.
I’m unpacking while the cable guy is here, and now that I’ve happened upon the “nightstand” bag, it occurs to me that I could probably at least negotiate an FXX/HGTV upgrade…
Would it be wrong to say I’m gonna go get gender reassignment surgery entirely so Comcast can kiss my dick?
It would?
OK, fair enough.
Glad I didn’t say it, then.
Post-therapy text to friends:
“BTW, I just got out of therapy and you wanna hear some horseshit? Not only does she want me to be happy and well adjusted, turns out she can’t just ask me a couple questions and fix 40 years of shit in 45 minutes. It’s, like…long-term work? That *I* have to figure out with her help? This is just like all this alleged ‘exercise’ people want me to be doing. UGH.”
P.S. It’s a joke, I knew what I was getting into. But it IS also bullshit that I drew the short straw in the brain department.
I just noticed that Guy I Dated for a Minute has RSVP’ed “yes” to a mutual friend’s holiday party I also said “yes” to.
Whatever, fuckface — I ain’t scared.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to spend the next 3 weeks getting pretty and practicing ignoring douchebags. Because that’s what Jesus would do.
(I’ve realized recently that whole thing messed me up more than it should have. But screw it, that’s what therapy’s for. Let’s dance, Psyche.)
Smug Singleton 