November 4: Therapy, Decorating, and Magic 8-Ball

I had a therapy appointment this afternoon.  The therapist is a good friend of mine.  We've known each other for many years, and she's seen me through some pretty tough times.  And she doesn't mind telling me, in a very professional way, when I'm full of shit.

She didn't have to say that to me today.  Mostly we talked about jobs and money.  When I start panicking about bills and past due notices and whatnot, my friend has a way of reeling me back from the stratosphere of oblivion.  She offers common sense advice and poses some difficult questions.  But I always leave my sessions with her feeling calmer, more in control.

I spent a portion of this morning putting up Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations at the medical office where I work.  It's one of the few duties in the place that I thoroughly enjoy.  This year, I'm including some of my poems in the displays, so I'm really excited about it.  I'm sure nobody is going to take the time to read the poems, but my poetry will be there.  That makes me happy for some reason that I can't explain.  It's like seeing my book of poems on the shelf in a bookstore.  Even though nobody is going to buy it, there's the possibility that someone will.  There's hope.

This evening, my Magic 8-Ball question is about finances:

Will my financial situation improve in 2014?

And the answer from that guru of positivity, Holden Caulfield, is:

"I'm sorry, sir, but we have our--"

Well, that's a pretty clear answer.  My therapist friend wouldn't put much stock in it.  Her bullshit detector would be going off.  I mean, all I did was ask the question, flip through my copy of The Catcher in the Rye, and stick my finger on a page.  It's not a message from God or anything.


Saint Marty needs a better Magic 8-Ball book next year.

No bullshit this afternoon for me