Alice, is my therapist. I don't mean that is a wanky 'search for the hero inside yourself' M-People bollocks way, nor do I have multiple personality disorder, she's an actual human being who listens to me bleat on for an hour a week about whatever is occupying my tiny mind.
I've grown to like Alice, I suppose it was bound to happen because the narcissist in me gets a real kick out of there being someone who has to listen to me, no matter how much she wants to say 'oh my GOD get your head out of your ass and shut up'. To be a fair, I think Alice quite appreciates our hour together because I take her through the full gamut of human experience, sometimes within the first ten minutes of the appointment as I give her a whistlestop tour of the previous week. It usually goes thus, (imagine it being said at a hundred miles an hour)
"I'm alright actually had a great week and things have been going really well, *sigh* well *sigh* Yeah actually the book is taking up all my time which is a bit hard going and work is all stressful and that project I'm working on is….. I'm spending the weekend with my parents and I'm, oh got this wedding coming up and want to find a dress so I'm not the fat single girl and I can't believe I'm nearly twenty whole eight years old and I still dont have a career or a boyfriend. I'd like a boyfriend but not if he's going to be a knob as that's not fun and food, hmm yeah that's been okay this week. Actually it's been pretty damned good this week, wonder when that's going to go wrong and I'll screw up *again* god I'm a screw up, man I can talk can't I, so yeah, *long sigh*"
Then we sit in silence for a bit whilst Alice the Therapist tries to unpick what the fuck I've just told her and I Alice (the camel) sit there reminiscing about the guy I dated for a little while who works in the same building.
The only problem with liking my therapist is that I sat there on Wednesday giving her the rundown of my week and cheerfully glossed over the fact that in the previous week I had s e x for the first time in five years. I imagine that Alice would have had a field day making me analyse what had occurred. Of course I don't mean the actual ins and outs of the carnal act but y'know, the feelings and whatnot.
Unfortunately I already know that I won't mention it this Wednesday either because then she'll make me investigate why I kept it quiet and I suspect a whole hella painful reasons as to why I kept it schtum. I already know it won't be a repeated act and so hey, you hold up the edge of the rug and I'll get the broom right?
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