me vs. therapy

'how does that work....exactly?'

 'well, every time i go to the bathroom at work, i do push ups'.

 'uh-huh. are people in the bathroom with you'?

'it's a single stall'.

'i see. how many do you do?'

'10.'

'right.'

'more if i've just had caffeine.'

'hmm. so, aren't you worried about the germs?'

'i put paper towels down.'

'uh-huh. but, even so...the dirtiest place in a bathroom is the floor.'

'yeah. i wash my hands when i'm done.'

Blank stare.

'what?'

'i have to confess i'm really at a loss.'

'yeah, it's weird.' Flex arms...say; 'but my arms look great huh?'

'very nice. but the germs?'

Sigh....say; 'look, i put my mouth on girls in places that....'

'angela.'

'well, i've seen what comes out of there....'

'angela.;

'...and i'd be willing to bet on some days it can compete...'

'oh god...'

'with the bathroom floor.'

'well done. i'm no longer hungry.'

'and i don't use paper towels on it either...so...'

Blank stare.

'...you would be safe to assume that push ups on the bathroom floor isn't so bad after all.'

'how's your family?'

'and i don't get great arms from doing that to chics either....'

'your parents, did they make it back from florida?'

'you can't redirect me jedi mind master.'

Look over at satan. satan finishes push up, wads up paper towel, throws in garbage, smiles.

Look back at therapist, say; 'do you think it's weird?'

'weird is subjective. would i do it? no.'

'show me your arm.'

'angela, i'm not showing y....'

'sissy.'

'fine, here....see, satisfied.'

'nice...see that wasn't so hard, lunch lady.'

Frown.

Smile back.

Therapist writes note.

'are you writing down how hot patients arms are?'

'no.'

'are you writing down how to do push ups in the bathroom?'

'no.'

'are you writing down....'

'i'm writing a recommendation of committal to a crazy farm.'

'really?'

'no.'

'cause i'd much rather go to a donkey farm.'

'i'm sure you would.'

'but one where the donkey's are weak minded and easily manipulated.'

'by tone arms?'

'yeah...something like that.'

'well, i have to admit, it's been an experience this session.'

'same time next week.'

'yes, i'll see you then.'

'oh...i almost forgot'. Dig in bag, pull out magic 8 ball.

'is that my replacement for the one you broke 6 months ago?'

'yeah, sorry it took me so long.'

'i love it, thank you.'

'bye therapist.'

'bye angela.'

‘so i was playing solitaire on my phone at work the other day….’

‘and the boss caught you, grabbed your phone, threw it out the window and fired you on the spot.’

‘no. i was playing solitaire and every time i got to move a card on top of another card the program automatically turned over the next card under it.’

‘fascinating.’

‘it’s not fascinating, it bugs the shit out of me.’

‘because you have control issues and refuse to let anything or anyone have any kind of control over anything in your life?’

‘no. because i want to turn over my own god damn playing card.’

Look over at Satan. Satan picks at lint in belly button. Raises finger to nose, smells.

Look back at therapist. Therapist says; ‘you’d like to convince yourself of that i’m sure. but you have control issues.’

‘no i don’t.’

‘yes, you do.’

‘no, i don’t.’

‘yes, you do.’

‘no, i don’t.’

‘angela….what did you do last time you were at the grocery store and you didn’t get your favorite parking spot?’

‘what….that doesn’t even count.’

‘did you stomp around the store, glare at everyone, drop a banana bunch, snap at a check–out girl and carry so much irritation that you told me about it….4 days later?’

‘that banana thing was an accident.’

‘angela.’

‘so. i don’t like door dings.’

‘uh-huh. did you get a door ding that day?’

‘it doesn’t matter. i could have.’

‘but you didn’t.’

‘but i could have.’

‘you could have won the stores millionth customer award and gotten a 10,000 dollar check too, but you didn’t. are you angry about that?’

‘that doesn’t make any sense.’

‘you think that because you know you’re wrong.’

‘whatever. let’s talk about something else.’

‘controlling the conversation?’

‘stop it.’

‘what would you like to talk about?’

‘therapists who think they’re always right.’

Therapist sighs. Says; ‘how about we talk about your weekend?’

‘ok. so i was playing super mario brothers for the wii with my friend.’

‘really, how interesting. go on.’

‘have you ever played?’

‘no.’

‘that’s not surprising, you don’t do anything fun. so you play together on the same screen and there’s this part where you both get to ride dragons.’

‘wow.’

‘so we jumped on them and I found out that you can use the dragons tongue to put stuff in your dragons mouth and carry it.’

‘awesome.’

‘there was a crevice coming up, so i put my friend and her dragon in my mouth so i could carry her over the crevice safely when i jumped.’

‘exciting….and?’

‘and i ended up falling into the crevice, taking her and her dragon to their deaths.’

‘game, set, match….i win.’

‘well, i had promised myself i was going to be very strict with my weight watcher points.’

‘uh-huh.’

‘but i kept staring at the mac n’ cheese display.’

‘did you get one?’

‘no, i turned my cart around and headed to the vegetable section.’

‘that was a good choice.’

‘the vegetable section is right next to the bakery.’

‘or not.’

‘and there it was, right next to the banana display.’

‘cookies?’

‘no, worse. a homemade slab of cake stuffed with cream cheese-like filling from paula dean.’

‘horror.’

‘no, whore. i had to have it. so i took it. then i looked at it and all i could think about was how good it would taste in between bites of my salty mac n’ cheese.’

‘that’s a shame. What did you do?’

‘i rolled the shopping cart and my fat ass back to the pasta aisle,  and picked up the mac n’ cheese box. then i found the nearest garbage can and threw away my resolve.’

‘you tried so hard too….’

‘i can’t help it.’

‘most of you people can’t.’

‘what?’

‘nothing, continue.’

‘well, i got home, put the groceries away and boiled water for the mac n’ cheese. then i pulled out the cream cheese cake paula dean made me and lifted the lid off so i could smell it while i stood there.’

‘uh-huh.’

‘then i noticed that the wine glasses hanging over the sink were dusty. so, i decided to clean them while my pasta cooked.’

‘this is going somewhere bad.’

‘that’s what she said. i grabbed a wine glass and started wiping it off with a towel when it shattered in my hand and shards went all over paula deans cake.’

‘sigh.’

‘i know. i was devastated. i cleaned up the glass and stared at the cake paula dean made me.'

‘why do i think you turned the cake over and ate the guts out leaving only the top with the glass shards?’

‘because i did.’

‘intelligent. really.’

‘can you believe i have a checkbook and can pump my own gas and can fly on a plane alone?’

‘not really.’

‘it was really good cake.’

‘well i imagine so if paula dean made it for you.’

‘you know what else was really good…the mac n’ cheese.’

‘you understand that when you deprive yourself of special treats you only end up craving them more and finally, when you can no longer stand it indulge to the point of misery?’

‘is that a metaphor, because it feels like a metaphor.’

‘maybe yes, maybe no.’

‘can you ever say something concrete? maybes drive me crazy.’

‘i know. it’s interesting to watch you struggle. so, did you end up bleeding from the glass?’

‘maybe.’

Blank stare.

Smile.

‘aside from your new glass-eating hobby, how are things?’

‘umm, yeah.’

‘ahh, fairy tale is getting bleak?’

‘maybe.’

‘hang in there. you are very impatient. try sitting back and enjoying life. amazing things happen when you aren’t running around looking for them too.’

‘i don’t get it.’

‘i know, i know. just trust me on this one.’

‘you’re the boss. hey, next time i visit do you want me to bring some of paula deans cake?’

‘that’s very tempting but i’ll have to pass.’

‘you don’t know what you’re missing.’

‘metaphor?’

‘no. it’s just really good cake.’

Twirl ring on finger.

Look over at fish.

Fish scowls.

Scowl back.

Ring falls off finger, bounces on floor, rolls under desk.

Frown, get off sofa, fall to hands and knees, search for ring.

Hear heels clicking outside.

Look up at fish. Fish holds up middle finger, smiles.

Bite lip, reach further.

Therapist walks in.

Stops.

Says; "looking for something good?'

'yeah, i think i lost my pride under here in our last session.'

'any luck?'

Fingers find ring, grab, bring to chest, hug. Shove on finger. Sit down, say; 'who needs luck when you're perfect.'

'right. so, how was your christmas?'

'snowy and loaded with kids.'

'you went to your sisters, correct?'

'yes, she lives in missouri. they have 4 kids.'

'wow, that's a lot of activity. do anything fun?'

'eh, changed my first diaper, killed terrorists with the 11-year old and accidently shot the neighbors house with my brother-in-laws paint ball gun.'

'very nice.'

'what did you do?'

'oh angela, let's not talk about me let's put all the focus on you, which is where you like it.'

'ok, if you insist.'

'any big plans for the new year?'

'hmmm, yes.'

'and.....'

'well, if i tell you then it may ruin my plans.'

'i don't think i understand.'

'you're not supposed to.'

'ok. well, moving right along....what else is new?'

'i got to kiss my white pony in a parking lot.'

'excuse me?'

'nothing.'

Look over at Satan. Satan giggles.

Look back at therapist. Therapist says; 'last i knew your white pony already had a rider in the saddle.'

'guess that cowpoke got bucked.'

'uh-huh. so, what's the plan there?'

'eh, i'll just kinda hang around the stable with my chaps on.'

'waiting for a ride?'

'yeah, i figure i might even bring along an apple or a carrot.'

'umm, yes. i'm sure bribery will work wonders.'

'hey, i'm a woman of action.'

'you're a woman of something.'

'that was kind of funny. i mean, for you.'

'yes, i like to change it up every now and then.'

'like going after a girl?'

'not that much change.'

'lying to yourself will only bring pain.'

'useful advice you should utilize.'

'huh?'

'nevermind. well, i hope your barn stalking works out for you and i'm sure i'll hear if it doesn't.'

'i'll even tell you if it does.'

'lucky me.'

'so, i was going to make a list of things to accomplish for 2010. so far, i've got ACTUALLY LISTEN TO WHAT SOMEONE IS SAYING AND REMEMBER IT, DRINK LESS DIET COKE, AVOID LESBIANS, STOP CRACKING KNUCKLES AND GIVE UP MICROWAVE POPCORN.'

'admirable goals. what's wrong with the popcorn?'

'cnn.com said when i microwave it chemicals are released that cause cancer.'

'hmm. how many bags of microwave popcorn would you estimate you've already consumed in your lifetime?'

'400.'

'yeah, you're probably already screwed on that one.'

'does that mean i can scratch it off my list?'

'i would. then again i'm a therapist, not a doctor.'

'hmm, well i like popcorn, so i think i'll listen to you.'

'suit yourself.'

'you think i can hit those goals, realistically speaking?'

'that depends on how willing you are to change the very fabric of your being.'

'really?'

'no. i'm just kidding again. it's fun, i see why you enjoy it.'

'yeah, it kind of makes the day nicer.'

'yeah, it kind of does. i think you can easily attain all of your goals. you're strong-willed despite thinking you're not.'

'gee, that was nice of you to say.'

'don't get used to it.'

'i won't. happy new year therapist.'

'happy new year angela. see you next time.'

Park car.

Look over at Satan.

Satan reaches to back seat, pulls out umbrella.

Nods.

Nod back.

Evacuate car, run to Satan, duck under umbrella.

Make way to front door.

Satan shakes umbrella, water sprays on shoes.

Glare at Satan.

Satan shrugs apologetically.

Shrug.

Make way to receptionist.

Say; 'how's life treating you, martha?'

'like a baby treats a diaper. what can i do for you?'

'oh, nothing, just here for my appointment.'

'what appointment would that be?'

Consider bizarre question, furrow brow say; 'my weekly crazy doctor appointment.'

Martha smacks gum with irritated expression, says; 'remember last week when, on your way out you said "see you next week dookie pants" and i said "no, you won't because doctor is on vacation".'?

'no, i never listen to what you say i just say things to you because it's polite.'

'right, well this can serve as a reminder to you as to what being a self absorbed lunatic can get you.'

'what, standing in the crazy doctor's waiting area bantering with the angry secretary?'

'administrative assistant. now....it looks to me like we have you on the books for next week this time, so i guess i'll see you then.'

'who's feeding the fish?'

'me.'

Lean low over counter, look sideways each way, whisper......'you should think about changing his food while SHE'S gone....he needs less fiber before his ass explodes.'

Satan farts in corner.

Look back over shoulder, Satan waves hand back and forth behind ass, grins.

Frown.

Look back at Martha.

Martha says; 'i'll keep that in mind. thanks.'

Wink with much exaggeration.

Walk towards door. Stop. Turn around, say; 'hey, would you mind answering a question for me?'

'i guess that depends on the question.'

Walk towards counter, Satan quits dispersing fart air, walks over too, leans close....

Say; 'well...i was just wondering...since she's on vacation....she must have like, gone with someone....like a husband, or boyfriend....or girlfriend?'

Martha continues typing, doesn't look up....says; 'if you're trying to get me to tell you that she's gay and single and wants you, keep dreaming.'

'how about she's just gay and single?'

'no chance.'

Motion towards Satan, Satan rolls eyes, grabs wallet from back pocket....hands over a dollar bill.

Snatch dollar bill, wave in front of Martha, say; 'how about now there sweet cheeks?'

Martha sighs heavily, looks up, says; 'i know that you must really want this information because that dollar represents 2 minutes of vacuumm action at the local gas station that an OCD such as yourself would love to have on your car after the recent bad weather gunked it up with dirt and sand and salt. however, in light of the recent economic climate, i can not afford to lose my job, which i would surely do if i gave you any personal information about the doctor.'

Wave dollar back and forth, say; 'are ya surrrrreeeeee, cause this could buy you some fantastic, juicy fries off the mcdonald's dollarmenuuuuuuuuu?'

Martha points to door without looking up.

Say; 'fine, you had your chance though.'

'see you next week angela.'

'not likely...since this dirty ass dollar that's getting germs all over my hands is going to buy me the winning powerball ticket and i''m moving to bora bora and will never need therapy again because the palm trees will fix me.'

Martha stares blankly back.

Snorts.

Frown at snort, shove dollar in pocket, march out....