My New York friends were unanimous. As in, “Don’t go back there, she’s crazy.” Because one of my friends has done more therapy than God and another is a therapist who works with couples and a third is just brilliant, and because they have told me I am not the craziest person in the room with the Sheepdog, well, I have my get out of jail free card.
Of course, if they heard the Sheepdog’s perspective on me, including me putting the chair at the door, at least two of them would at least raise eyebrows because they are men, even if gay. They might reconsider who is the craziest person in the room. But I think they’d still tell me to leave.
Yay. Very seriously, yay.
My partner said, “I asked you to go back and try it once, but I’m not going to ask it again because I don’t like her any more than you do.”
What do you think? Am I just better at finding enablers than anyone on earth? Or is the Sheepdog running out of the building to make me come in on time while I’m on a business call a little over the top?
Oh, after the last session, I ordered HOT HEAD PAISAN HOMICIDAL LESBIAN TERRORIST the complete collection.
I plan to read the whole thing. Maybe even in one sitting. After watching the new soap opera, Revenge.
Then I’ll meditate all day Saturday to make up for it.
Which just goes to prove that you can never quite leave your Catholic upbringing behind.
But I still get to leave couples therapy with the Sheepdog. No confession, no absolution. JUST MAKE FOR THE F-ING DOOR!