Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Sometimes it's hard to think of things to write about

And I really don't feel like going to steal a prompt from somewhere, so I'm going to wing it tonight.

I went to a psychotherapist today. I'm not crazy, but my boyfriend has some severe depression, and he sees her regularly. She wanted to meet me, so I went in to see her. It was an interesting experience. She's got a really nice office, full of books. I finally got to see the look that I had heard about - it was definitely funny. What is this look? you ask. It's a sort of professional confusion... you can tell that she's used to dealing with completely dysfunctional people. I got the look when I told her that yes, I get along well with my parents; yes, they're still married; yes, they have a healthy relationship; no, I wasn't abused in any form as a child; and yes, I had a happy childhood. The look on her face was as if she just didn't know what to do with me. She got pretty excited when I told her, after she asked about my drinking habits, that I would drink 6-7 drinks at a party. "You binge?" No, I stay at the party until 3 or 4 am... that works out to maybe one drink an hour, which is pretty reasonable. She seemed disappointed that there wasn't more wrong with me. I kind of like this :)

Okay, this was a really crappy blog entry, but hey, it's day four and I'm still making it every day! Woot!

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