Friday, June 1, 2012
I am staring at this thing I bought, willing it to be funny, to dictate humorous commentary directly into my typing hands.
But nothing comes.
Is it like that face palm meme?
Was that even a meme?
I didn't even know what a meme was until I started this blog.
Still not sure I get it.
What is really bothering me is that I had a choice of three therapists.
One of them was a dude.
Could I, you know, emotionally nuditize myself to a dude?
It just seems like if I cry, for whatever reason, at that first session, one dude offering a pseudo-dude a tissue is just going to be so awkward.
And I can't handle awkward right now.
That's part of the reason I'm sitting across from the dude in the first place.
Because my mental handling of things has been walking on the wonky side lately.
Probably the best fruit borne from the congress of the Internet and information is that you can look up pictures of your potential dude therapists. I think that might help me to-
OH MY SWEET LORD NO
NO NO NO
THE DUDIPIST HAS HIM A SWORD
Though, to be fair, he is not above the Chicken Dance
I can't, I just don't, I feel-
Let me start again.
Don't judge a book by its cover.
By its tanned beef jerky cover.
But yes I cancelled the appointment.
Because it could be like this
No, I think I'll try another name on my little list here of recommended therapists.
Maybe she'll be a nice retired art teacher turned life coach.