me vs. therapy

'it certainly has been awhile since i've seen you.'

'yeah, well i've been doing great so i thought i'd put 'us' on hold.'

'uh-huh. so, how are things?'

'i have a new boss.'

'what happend to angry bitch?'

'there was a regime change. i'm now serving under the nazi fat fucking shit bag.'

'sounds to me like there's some disdain in your voice.'

'i'd rather be trapped on a deserted island with angry bitch for 10 years than reporting to this douchebag asshole.'

'perhaps we should pump the brakes a bit.'

Look over at Satan. Satan burns.

Look back at therapist, say; 'he's fat. he's disgusting. he's missing a tooth on the side of his mouth. i stare at it when he talks to me. but, he doesn't really talk to me. he talks to the wall. he won't look me in the eye. kind of like a dog looks at you out of the corner of his eye right before he bites your fucking hand off.'

'ok, well aside from his appearance, angela...why don't you like him?'

'he couldn't manage his way out of a paper bag. everything, and i mean...everything, he does is the absolute wrong way to manage people. to make a sweeping statement...everyone hates him.'

'except his wife.'

'no, i'm pretty sure she does too.'

'i see. well, i think you're going to have to suck it up and play the game. maybe he'll move on to bigger and better things and you won't have to see him much longer.'

'or maybe he'll choke on the pile of onion rings he gulps down every day and no one will save him.'

'that's nice angela.'

'what?'

'moving right along, how's the dating life?'

'i painted and gardened all weekend.'

Therapist smiles.

Frown back.

Therapist smiles.

Frown back, say; 'why are you smiling at me like that?'

'i never really thought i'd see you be happy about painting and gardening. it's a nice change.'

'yeah. thanks, i think. i'm really happy now that i've been away from the barn yard for a while. i don't really miss the donkey's that much. they're more of a nuisance than anything. really.'

'uh-huh. what colors did you paint?'

'the bathroom is organic lettuce. the bedroom is gourd.'

'sounds interesting.'

'it sounds like a god damn farmers market. but it looks cool. anything is better than the beige.'

'everything else ok?'

'i have a trip to p-town planned for memorial day weekend.'

'uh-oh! that's a drunken lesbian festival. i hope you have fun, but are careful.'

'how do you know it's a lesbian festival?'

'i may have read about it somewhere.'

'that's bullshit...'

'oh, look at the time. we're done.'

'you're gay aren't you?! i have proof now.'

'you have no proof only wishful thinking.'

'that's crap, only lesbians know about the drunken lesbians at p-town on memorial day weekend. you're gay!'

'time to go, angela.'

'where...to p-town on memorial day weekend with me? ahahahahahaaa....'

'you're very funny. it's no wonder the donkey's can't keep their hooves off you.'

'hey. that's sarcasm. i'd smell it anywhere.'

'have a great week.'

Sigh...say; 'ok, well i know that you know that i know that you're a big gay-mo. i just want you to know that. before i go.'

'i'll make a note of it in my notes.'

'bye therapist.'

'goodbye angela.'