me vs. therapy

'you look glum.'

'i am glum.'

'why are you glum?'

'i've had a glum year.'

'how is that possible, it's only january?'

'work stinks, my personal life is crap and my boob is broken.'

'what is wrong with your breast?'

'my boob has a mass. and i'm not talking a jesus, god, holy ghost mass either.'

'that happens a lot. i'm sure you're fine.'

'it bleeds.'

'that doesn't happen a lot. are you taking care of it?'

'oh yeah. i often tell it what a bad boob it is, then i make it sit in a corner and think about what it did.'

'angela.'

'sometimes, i ground it from watching tv, or make it go to bed early.'

'angela, are you getting medical assistantce?'

'if by medical assistance you mean having a bunch of people grab it, push on it and stare at it with frowns, then yes.'

'so you're dating?'

'haha. yes, i'm taking care of it.'

'good. will you keep me updated?'

'sure. she's one of the most important ladies in my life.'

'she's one of the ONLY ladies in your life.'

'was that a jab?'

'yes.'

'good one.'

'thank you. what's the timeframe on this issue?'

'i should have a mass-free boob and a blown implant in about a month.'

'a blown implant?'

'they're insisting on a mammogram too.'

'i see. so you're worried about your implant.'

'yes. will you still love me with a blown implant?'

'i don't love you.'

'will you still take my money with a blown implant?'

'without a doubt. are you experiencing any anxiety or fear because of this?'

'yes.'

'would you like to discuss it?'

'no. i'm coping.'

'angela, you cope by staring vacantly, overeating and crying uncontrollably in the shower.'

'crying in the shower saves trees, the snot goes right down the drain.'

'i'm going to pretend you didn't just say that. i'm here if you need to talk.'

'thanks, i'll remember that.'

'ok, well our time is up. hang in there and like i said before, keep me updated.'

'you mean abreast?'

Sigh.