Late to my Therapy Appointment


For those who haven’t been following every week, shame on you. Go ahead and start following now. And this is the week’s installment of Therapy Thursdays. (If you need a reminder to be a better follower, sign up for the little newsletter in the right side bar and let email do the reminding.)

DOC: You’re late.

LRE: Good to see you, too. I used my lunch for a facial today, thank you very much.

DOC: Why? You can’t afford that.

LRE: Why not? I can afford you.

DOC: You don’t pay me anything; I’m one of the many figments of your imagination.

LRE: I am very imaginative, aren’t I? I’m sorry that you’re jealous of my impressive imagination. It makes for better stories—as long as I don’t go off on too many tangents.

DOC: Do you go off on those often? Perhaps your multiple personalities start taking over your story telling.

LRE: I doubt it; I usually keep the OTHERS tied up in the corner. I let them out for exercise at night.

DOC: Must make for interesting dreams.

LRE: I did have a strange one a few nights ago. I was driving around town with an ex-fling whom I shall call California because that’s where many handsome men live.

DOC: Was it a good dream?

LRE: Sure; until I woke up and realized that it wasn’t real. Turns out, I wouldn’t mind if California happened to show back up in Utah and drive around town with me. I heard a rumor though that he was engaged or married so it’ll have to remain a dream relationship.

DOC: Do you have many of those? Because you should probably focus more on REAL relationships.

LRE: Since this is my blog, I can still read your asides and know what you’re thinking.

DOC: This is your blog?

LRE: Stop changing the subject. I have real relationships. In fact, I have so many real relationships, that I don’t know how to fit them all inside my place if I were to have a house warming party. My life is so difficult.

DOC: Well aren’t you little miss popular?

LRE: I think so, but sometimes I can’t tell if they’re real friends or made up like the dragons, elfs and bobcats my friend and I made up in sixth grade.

DOC: Was that a real friend—the one who made up friends with you?

LRE: This one, yes. I have a scar to prove it.

DOC: She scarred you?

LRE: It was on a dark and stormy night and the dog next door was blood thirsty for some white—very white—meat.

DOC: I like dark and stormy nights.

LRE: Me, too, but I was lying about that night. No storm, although it was dark. Last night, on the other hand, was dark AND stormy. Loved it. Once I finally got home to bed.

DOC: No wonder you look so tired.

LRE: Yeah, but it was worth it to stay up so late. Even if it made for light sleep and strange dreams.

DOC: Do you want to talk about your dreams?

LRE: Nah, this is getting too lengthy already and I don’t want to pay you anymore.

DOC: You don’t pay me.


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