me vs. therapy

'and to escape my crap ass of a day i put on my jammi bottoms and snap, crackle and pop t-shirt.'

 'the one that you climbed the balcony for?'

 'the very same.'

 'you must really like that shirt.'

 'well, it was a gift.'

 'gifts are nice.'

 'and it's wonderful and soft. like 600+ egyptian cotton sheet soft but without the price.'

'because it's been around awhile?'

'10 years.'

 'you can't beat that.'

 'no you really can't. you know what else you can't beat?'

 'i bet it's not a dead horse.'

 'you can't beat sitting your fat ass in a lazy boy and playing a video game all night.'

 'this doesn't sound exciting, but seeing as how your face lit up when you mentioned it i assume i have to ask about it.'

 'yes. thank you. so the game is a free roaming kind of thing. kinda set in the middle ages.'

Hear heavy sigh, look over at Satan.

Satan rolls eyes, noisely grabs readers digest off table and leaves.

 Look back at therapist. Therapist looks bored, says;  'uh-huh.'

 'and you can be a ogre or an elf or a human...you get the gist.'

 'not really but you're paying so keep going.'

 'so you get a horse if you want and swords and stuff and basically go and do whatever you want in cities and forests and mountains.'

 'fascinating.'

 'really?'

 'no.'

 Scowl.

 Therapist smiles.

 Say; 'anyway...so i'm riding my horse on a mountainside road and thinking about going into a cave and fighting monsters.....what are you writing?'

 'my obituary.'

 'oh. so i stop and think...no, the view from my horse is too cool, i'm just going to ride him around and relax and watch the trees and listen to the birds.'

 'uh-huh'

'and that's when it hit me.'

 'the wave of regret for wasting time on video games when you could be voluteering, gardening, reading or doing something else productive?'

 'no...what hit me was....wow, i'm really happy right now.'

 'and why do you think you were happy?'

 'because i wasn't in rhode island.'

 'but you were.'

 'but i wasn't. and i wasn't at work.'

 'you were an elf on a horse in a middle ages-like time.'

 'right. and i could do whatever i wanted.'

 'like kill monsters?'

 'yeah. and steal stuff from people's homes then sell it. and fight in the colleseum and make my horse run or make my horse walk or make my horse run or make my horse walk  or make my horse run or......'

'ok, ok...i get it.'

 Hear door open, look over.

 Satan walks in, trailing toilet paper on foot.

 Tosses digest on table, falls into chair, naps.

 Look over at therapist.

 Say; 'do you think that's bad?'

 'i don't think bad is the right term. let me ask you this...you said you were really happy, do you mean fullfilled happy?'

 'yes.'

 'uh-huh.'

 'was that the wrong answer?'

 'i don't think wrong is the right term.'

 'because it's wrong.'

 'right.'

 'what?'

 'nevermind.'

 'ok.'

 'so, angela. maybe it would be in your best interests to put a time limit on your game play.'

 'even if it makes me happy?'

 'yes. because it will eventually make you not happy.'

'like a marriage?'

 'not exactly.'

 'but similar?'

 'sure.'

 'but what else can i fill my day with then?'

 'that's for you to figure out.'

 'but i'm tired of figuring out and thinking and stuff.'

 'do you know who you sound like?'

'someone who's awesome?'

 'no. a 5-year old.'

 'whatever. fine, i'll work on that.'

 'no you won't.'

 'yes i will.'

 'you'll only work on it because i challenged you to work on it.'

 'well, now that you gave that away i won't.'

 'fine. don't. it's your life.'

 Frown.

 Therapist smiles, says; 'oh, looks like that's the end of our session. see you again next week.'

 'i don't like you.'

 'yes, you do. good luck with the video game void.'

 Mumble; 'good luck with the void check.'

 'what was that?'

 'nothing. bye.'

‘you did what?’

‘i climbed the balcony.’

‘she wouldn’t let you in, so you climbed the balcony?’

‘i’m a problem solver.’

Satan sniggers.

Therapist throws out challenging stare.

Return challenging stare.

Therapist says: ‘is this something you’re proud of?’

‘oh, not at all….well, making it up two stories on a pole is quite an accomplishment, but i recognize that it was inappropriate.’

‘to say the least….’

‘and probably illegal.’

‘probably. what happened after you climbed the balcony?’

‘she yelled at me.’

‘obviously, and then?’

‘we stared angrily at each other.’

‘and then….’

‘we played patty cakes.’

‘uh-huh.’

‘look, you have to understand….this girl and i, we played these games a lot.’

‘is that justification?’

‘your fish is staring at me’.

‘angela, ignore the fish.’

‘i’m trying, but he just keeps looking.’

‘angela’

‘now he’s blowing bubbles at me.’

‘angela.’

‘you’re judging me.’

‘i’m sorry you feel that way.’

‘i’m sorry you’re judging me.’

‘i’m not judging you. i’m just trying to understand why someone as bright as you would climb a balcony.’

‘i like to think of it as being passionate about my causes.’

‘some may not see it that way.’

‘how do you see it?’

’i feel like you let your desire’s overrule your reason at times’.

‘yeah, but it ended up getting me what i wanted.’

Satan rifles through wallet photos, gets to balcony scene, points….smiles.

‘at what cost?’

‘well, i lost a little piece of self-respect and some pride…and i got a sliver.’

‘at what cost to her?’

‘oh….her….ummmm, well, she kinda got what she wanted too.’

‘she locked you out, it sounds to me like what she wanted was to be alone.’

‘she locked me out because what she wanted was not to give my stuff back.

‘so you climbed up her balcony, played patty cakes and got your stuff back.’

‘nice and neat isn’t it?’

Therapist sighs, scribbles in note pad says: ‘will you be sharing this session in your blog as well?’

‘i’m an open book.’

‘perhaps you should consider hiding a few chapters.’

‘that’s not fun.’

‘neither is listening to people’s problems all day long, but we all must make sacrifices.’

‘wow, you mean that?’

‘no. but it’s satisfying to try your tactics on you.’

‘that’s fighting dirty.’

‘but, I’m kinda getting what i want.’

‘stop it.’

‘stop what?’

‘stop being me.’

‘or?’

‘i’ll start talking about the fish’.

‘touche’.

'...what prompted you to say that?'

Look over at Satan....Satan sheepishly grins, looks away.

'the voice inside my head that always steers me wrong prompted me to say that.'

'sounds to me like you could use some practice at self-control'.

'really...because i've been certain all along that my immediate response was always the right one'.

'there's no need for sarcasm, angela.'

'is there a need for our sexual tension?'

'no, which is why there isn't any.'

'you know, for a highly educated woman of your brilliance, i would have assumed that you'd be more in touch with your feelings.'

'i am in touch with my feelings.....or in this case, lack thereof.'

'that would've hurt, if i believed you.'

'it's quite interesting how in the face of certain failure, your denial of the truth overwhelms your reason'.

'pretty cool huh? it's taken me years to perfect, i'm quite proud.'

'...as you should be.'

Look over at fish, fish burps bubble....

Look back at therapist, say; 'well, however much i'd love to continue our sex banter, i have to interject with a serious topic.'

'....interject away....'

'the donkey...from michigan.'

'yes'.

'she's calling me again.'

'...and?'

'and....she tells me about her day and then asks about mine.'

Look over at Satan, Satan puts down crotchet....shrugs, sips cocktail, continues crotcheting.

'ok, so far not terrible....'

'yeah, but she's working me.'

'how is that?'

'well, she knows how to play me and now, of course, i've been entertaining playing farm with her again.'

'i see. you know, there is a danger in remaining friends with ex's....especially ex's who you are still attracted to.'

Look over at Satan....Satan is humping pillow while swinging crotchet needle over head like cowboy roping.

Look back at therapist, say; 'alcoholic donkey has always had my heart, she knows this, my friends know this, your stupid, f-ing fish with shit coming out of his ass knows this.'

'so what are you going to do about it?'

'invite her to visit'.

'of course you are.'

'well what would you like me to do?'

'cease contact for the time being, grasp the fact that she's in a relationship with someone else, understand that you will inevitably get hurt and be sitting across from me crying about her.'

Blank stare.

Therapist taps pen on note pad.

Say; 'don't tap your pen at me.'

'you know that i'm right, that's why it's upsetting you.'

'i know you know i know you're right, but that doesn't make me want her not to visit. she was my match.'

'really?'

Look over at Satan....Satan holds up index fingers to forehead, makes horns impression.

Frown.

Look over at fish....fish holds up fins to forehead, makes horns impression.

Look back at therapist, say; 'ok, she wasn't the greatest to me. it fact, she was the devil and made my life miserable, but there were amazing times.'

'this might be a good time to begin prescribing narcotics for you....'

'you know what, if i want to live in complete denial and enjoy the ex that broke my heart 5 million times in the span of 6 years for a long weekend why can't i? i mean, i trudge to a job i don't like every damn day, trudge to the gym i don't like every damn day, lay in bed alone every damn night, so why can't i indulge?'

'you can, no one is stopping you. however, i feel it is my responsibility to help you recognize the fact that making this rash decision will complicate your life and bring certain misery down upon your shoulders about 5 seconds after she leaves on the plane.'

'your unyielding rightness aggravates me.'

'it's taken me years to perfect. i'm quite proud.'

'don't you plagiarize me in my time of need.'

'i thought you'd enjoy the laugh.'

i'd enjoy it much more if you'd admit your attraction to me.'

'wow, well as much as i'd like to do that, i try to live in a world free of make believe.'

Mumble under breath...'i'll make believe your shirt on my floor and a saddle on your back.'

'excuse me?'

Satan slaps knee, chortles uncontrollably.

'what? oh.....i was just having a joke under my breath at your expense.'

'that's nice, angela.'

'well hey, half the time i leave this office with no clear idea of exactly what i accomplished so i have to subsidize that withsomething....'

Therapist sighs heavily, writes notes....says; 'our time together is up, and you will be leaving, but not before you have a crystal clear understanding of what we've accomplished today.'

'....a mutual agreement that we're attracted to each other but until i find a different therapist we can't succumb to our desires?'

'yes, you're exactly right.'

'really?'

'no, not really. we've decided that you will think long and hard the next time alcoholic donkey's number shows up on your caller id.'

'like....think long and hard about how nice it would be to cares..'

'angela. no.'

'but i real...'

'no.'

'not even the stirrups?'

'not even reins, a blanket or hay.'

Sigh...look over at Satan...Satan feeds white pony carrot, pets shoulder.

Frown....say; 'fine, but this one's going to be hard.'

'yes, saying no to fun things usually is hard for your entitled personality.'

'i really like it when you're mean to me.'

'i'm being honest, not mean.'

'i honestly like it when you're mean to me.'

'wow, look at the time....'

'...and that's about the time i decided she was crazy.'

'my cue would have been the incident in the shower 2 weeks beforehand.'

'yeah, i kinda chalked that up to the wine'.

'normally, wine doesn't make people do that.'

'you know, i thought that at the time too....maybe i should listen to my inner voice more often.'

Look over at Satan.

Satan shakes head no...pulls out wallet, points to wallet sized photos of incident in shower...smiles widely.

Look over at fish.

Fish gives thumbs up.

Look back at therapist.

Therapist says: 'our inner voices are often right.'

'what about when mine tell me to kill babies?'

'here we go.'

'or that time they said the kittens were meowing too loudly?'

'tell me when you're finished so i can check back in.'

'one time when i was little they said i could fly.'

'it's amazing how you can just keep going.'

'...that's what she said.'

'uh-huh...ok, well, i have to say i'm happy to hear that you learn from most of your past mistakes and adjust your future interactions accordingly. now, how's your motivation been lately?'

'alright...you know, i think it's my birth control making me so tired.'

'you're gay.'

'yeah.'

'nevermind.'

'i don't want to give it up, so i'll just drink more diet coke.'

Look over at Satan, Satan shakes head in agreement.

Therapist says; 'that may not be the best solution, but you're going to do it anyway so i'm not going to argue. let's talk about your vacation at Christmas, you'd mentioned another donkey.'

Look over at Satan. Satan looks down at wallet....

'yeah, well...turns out that donkey was really an ass.'

'no call back yet i assume?'

'no. maybe it's because asses have a hard time dialing the phone with their hooves?'

'maybe the ass used you?'

'or the ass got roped into working in a circus for 6 months?'

'or maybe the ass used you?'

'or probably the ass has a donkey in the other stall that it likes better.'

'i think you are probably correct. and the ass used you.'

'do you think you'll ever break our sexual tension and use me?'

'i'm quite sure that will never happen, but i enjoy you trying to convince me each and every session that we have.'

'so what should i do about my ass?'

'i'd say there's nothing for you to do.'

'yeah, i think i should move on to burros.'

Therapist frowns.

'i mean, way, way, way in the future when i'm ready for that kind of nonsense.'

'i think that is a wise decision.'

'what about killing the babies?'

'probably not.'

'the kittens?'

'i'd just keep going to the gym.'

'flying is out too then?'

'do you have a cape?'

'as a matter of fact, yes i do.'

'i was joking.'

'so you decided to talk to her?'

'well yeah....she grabbed my elbow. i didn't want to be rude.'

'why not, you're usually rude.'

'i am?'

'that's what you've told me. would you like me to go back through my notes to prove it to you?'

'no. could you go back through your notes and find the part where we discover our sexual tension?'

'is this joke almost over?'

'no. it's funny.'

'i'm not laughing. the fish isn't laughing.'

'satan and my friends are.'

'let's continue with your night at the bar.'

'ok. well, there i was in the bathroom....'

'angela.'

'....and i was hovering over the seat because you know you aren't supposed to sit on the seat....'

'you can stop now.'

'....and since i'd had a couple, i started to sway and wouldn't you know it....'

'ANGELA.'

'what?'

'the girl please, continue with her.'

'yeah, well i had called her a couple times before that night, she never wanted to go out. so now here we are at the bar talking and i asked her why that was, and i got the bullshit ''i'm scared of getting hurt''.

'ummm-hummmm, go on.'

'well that's code for ''eff off and die asshole''.

'that's a harsh assessment, angela. perhaps she really is scared to take that step.'

'she didn't have a problem stepping up to another donkey and kissing her 10 minutes later.'

'sometimes filling our lives with carefree and momentary acts is the best we can do to cope.'

'like you drawing naked pictures of me on your notepad when i'm not looking?'

'i don't do that.'

'like you dreaming about me naked while i'm talking.'

'sorry.'

'sorry that you do that, don't be....it's ok with me.'

'no. sorry that you are disillusioned.'

'i don't get it.'

'angela, i think you need to practice not wanting anyone.'

Blank stare.

'i don't get it.'

'it seems to me that you are looking too hard and that if you just relax, it will fall into your lap.'

'like when i'm shopping at the grocery store?'

'perhaps.'

'or maybe when i'm at the library?'

'maybe.'

'she could be laying out on the beach this summer and i accidently trip over her while i look for a place to set down my beach towel.'

'that could happen.

'NO!! it really can't!'

'why do you say that?'

'because the only people i see grocery shopping at walmart wear wolfsweatshirts, 1983 reeboks and stone washed jeans. and the only library membership i have is in coloma, michigan which is about a thousand miles to the west of rhode island. and i hate the beach, there's nothing good about the beach except when you pee there it doesn't splatter on your feet it just gets sucked into the sand'

'you're negative.'

'yeah....well, you're fish doesn't know how to shit correctly.'

'you're deflecting.'

Look over at Satan....Satan nods agreement.

Flip off Satan.

''so i stop looking, then what?'

'go to the gym.'

'i go to the gym all the time.'

'put more energy into work.'

'i work all the time.'

'take up a hobby.'

'like hitting on my therapist?'

Therapist sighs heavily, writes notes.

Looks up, says: 'i know you know what you need to do.'

'stop riding donkeys. stop chasing donkeys. stop looking for donkeys.'

'correct.'

'but what if one walks by and i just pet it?'

'no'.

'but what if one is dying by the side of the road because it just got hit by a tractor and it needs mouth to mouth to live?'

'angela....'

'you don't want me to ignore a dying donkey do you?'

'angela...'

'then you'd have donkey blood on your hands.'

'well, well, look at the time. seems our hour is up.'

'same time next week?'

'yes, same time next week.'

'ok, don't think about me too much.'

'i won't'.